Even Super Soldiers Fall
by ILikeMovies
Summary: It's their job to save the world and, more often than not, their job gets them injured. But, what happens when one day Steve gets severely injured? And, to add insult to injury, people are after him and they use his weakened state to kidnap him. Can the Avengers save him in time?
1. Chapter 1

Hi guys. My first Avengers fanfiction, so please be gentle on me but feel free to comment and advise me on how to improve my writing Or even the storyline. Thank you. Thanks for reading.

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Tony was happy. The Avengers had completed yet another mission successfully with a total of zero human casualties. They had saved New York City from another attack by aliens and it felt good. Great, actually.

Sure, being in battle came with small and ultimately insignificant consequences such as the minor injuries everyone seemed to obtain. But, in the greater scheme of things, those were unimportant and wounds healed after all.

They all met up on the roof of a building on the outskirts of New York City, were they had managed to kill the last ship carrying the surviving aliens.

Clint had a gash above his eyebrow but it had stopped bleeding so it wouldn't be in need of anything other than a band aid.

Natasha, as usual, came out with nothing other than a bruised cheek which would fade within a few days. Besides, bruises were nothing new to her, she was Black Widow.

Thor seemed perfectly alright. His smile was broad and his hair had miraculously stayed slicked back. He stared at the warriors in front of him with a look of pride.

Bruce was no longer Hulk and he was dressed in a random shirt he had acquired from a security guard at the Museum of Natural History.

But Steve was nowhere to be seen.

It was only when Steve failed to show up that Tony realized that he hasn't heard from Steve in the last few intense minutes of the battle. Not since Steve had been shot by one of the aliens and fallen off a building. Tony had automatically assumed that Steve would get right back up and continue fighting like he usually did and, in the heat of the battle and fighting off ten aliens squirting spears at him, Tony had somehow erased the event from his mind.

"Where is our leader in battle?" Thor asked as the large smile on his face became smaller.

"I don't know. Probably straightening his uniform." Tony shrugged.

It was a lame response but his mind had been overwhelmed with thoughts of Steve's safety. Multiple excuses for Steve's absence came to mind.

Maybe he was helping a wounded civilian?

No, all civilians were told to stay indoors and off the streets until such time that they were told otherwise which, after analyzing the dead aliens and taking them off the street, would only be in a few hours. So, the streets were deserted.

Maybe Steve had gone to the wrong rooftop?

No, Steve had been the one to suggest that very rooftop being as it was the easiest to identify.

Maybe... Maybe, Steve was wounded?

"Yeah, where is he?" Clint chimed in.

The other Avengers had stopped smiling and had all adopted looks of worry and anxiety. Thor looked as though he was thinking of something.

"Hey, Cap, where you at, bro?" Tony said playfully into his mic.

Tony received no answer and he looked at Thor who was staring straight at Tony.

"What's wrong, Thor?" Tony asked with an edge to his voice.

"I have a recollection of witnessing our Captain falling to the ground. I think that something is wrong." Thor said quietly, almost as though willing the thought to go away.

"Cap! Answer me." Tony yelled, having become more distressed by the worry in Thor's usually calm and controlled voice. "Are you okay?" Tony asked worriedly.

Natasha and Clint were staring at him in absolute horror, obviously having jumped to conclusions, and Natasha looked ready to beat the shit out of someone. Bruce was pacing back and forth, trying to calm himself down by plucking at the hair on the back of his neck. Thor had not moved and was still staring intently at Tony.

"Call Coulson." Tony told Natasha and she nodded and did as she was told without wasting any time.

"Cap, answer me. Okay?" Tony said into his mic again, panic making his voice shaky.

Silence for agonizing seconds was the only reply until a small crackling was heard followed by,

"I-I'm okay." It was Steve's voice but it sounded so weak and vulnerable. It was soft and strained, almost as though Steve was in pain.

"Where are you?" Tony asked. He was also pacing back and forth.

"I... I don't kn-know." Steve replied hesitantly.

"Jarvis-" Tony began.

"On it, sir." Jarvis said.

Tony looked at everyone else and he noticed Natasha still talking to Coulson. Tony decided he needed to take control of the situation.

"Yo, Banner, go get some real clothes on. That shirt is riding its way up your thighs and I don't want to have nightmares about your junk." Tony said and Bruce nodded quickly. "Thor, go with him. Then meet me at Cap's position. I'll need your freaking scary god powers. Banner, prep for surgery. Tell the doctors we have a casualty." Tony said. Thor nodded and grabbed Bruce by the chest then flew into the air towards SHIELD.

"Jarvis..." Tony said sternly.

Jarvis rattled off Steve's location and Tony nodded and flew in the direction of the street. Clint and Natasha followed by foot, as fast as they possibly could. Finally they reached an area surrounded by debris consisting of concrete, shattered glass and fallen trees.

"Cap!" Tony yelled.

"Steve!" Natasha was trying to keep her sheer panic a secret.

"H-here." They heard a weak voice say from beneath all the rubble. They started removing all the debris as fast as possible, Clint managing to remove most of the wood, Natasha removing the largest shards of glass and Tony struggling with the concrete. A few minutes later, Thor showed up and he helped Tony pull off the remaining concrete slabs.

They were met by a sight they would always struggle to forget. Steve was lying on his back, blood dripping from a huge gash along his hairline, turning his blond hair a shade of crimson. The right arm of his uniform was in tatters revealing large wounds bleeding profusely, some still had the spears from the aliens stuck in them. His right arm, in itself, was at a slightly odd angle, protruding awkwardly from the shoulder. The shoulder was heavily bruised and misshapen. His left arm was clutching at his abdomen where up to five large shards of glass were sticking out of his abdomen. Blood was pouring through his fingers and on to the ground.

Serum helped Steve heal faster but he needed a boost in the form of surgery most times. The serum could not work if large shards of glass were stuck in his abdomen and tiny spears in his arm. It also wouldn't mend broken bones if the bones were completely misaligned, which judging by the appearance of it, Steve's shoulder was.

"Rogers!" Natasha said, a tiny amount of panic forgotten once she realized that Steve was alive... Even if it was only barely.

"Cap!" Tony screamed as he dropped to his knees by Steve's side.

"Rogers, are you okay?" Natasha asked as Thor and Clint also dropped to their knees with her.

"Yes, ma'am." Steve said but his pale complexion and pained expression said otherwise.

"This wound," Thor said as he inspected the wound in Steve's abdomen. "It is bleeding quite heavily, is it not?"

Tony looked at the wound and he had to suppress a shocked gasp. Blood was oozing out and onto the floor, the serum not having healed it in the very slightest.

"It is." Tony said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Natasha called SHIELD and returned seconds later with the news that medical help was on the way. Steve coughed and blood oozed out of his mouth.

"Shit." Tony said breathlessly. Steve's eyes started closing and Tony slapped his face hard and looked into his bright blue eyes as he said,

"Hey, Cap, keep those eyes open and on me. Yeah?" Steve nodded slowly. His body was tense in agony and each breath was labored.

"How you feeling, Cap?" Clint asked quietly, his macho bravado all but gone.

"F-fine." Steve stammered.

"Bullshit." Tony snorted and Natasha smirked in agreement.

"I must agree with the man made of iron." Thor said in his booming voice. Steve coughed again and more blood spilled onto his chin as his face contorted in sheer agony.

"How far away are the medics?" Tony screamed towards Natasha's general direction.

"They said they'd be here in six minutes two minutes ago." Natasha said and her voice was also shaky with panic. Steve's eyes drooped closed again but Tony slapped him and gestured for him to keep his eyes open.

"Is the serum not supposed to heal such wounds?" Thor asked, clearly confused by Steve's terrible condition.

"Yes but it can't with pieces of fucking glass stuck in his body. And it takes hours, sometimes days, anyway." Tony said hastily.

"How... How are the o-others?" Steve said as his body tensed when another round of pain hit.

"They're absolutely fine." Natasha replied. "Unlike you, you dumbass. You should have watched out." She was being sarcastic and playful but there was a hint of seriousness in her voice.

"Sorry, ma'am." Steve said and his words began to slur.

Tony tried to pull on one of the many small spears in Steve's arm but his action was met with an agonized groan from Steve who had suddenly become extremely pale and clammy, even trembling with the agony.

"Where's that God damn medic team?" Tony yelled angrily and just as he did they showed up.

They pried Tony away from Steve and lifted Steve onto a gurney, his cries of agony heard as the broken bones and opened wounds were jostled by the movement.

The last thing Tony heard before he headed to SHIELD headquarters was one of the multiple doctors yelling,

"He's going into shock. Blood loss at forty-two percent. Prepare a crash cart."

A crash cart? Why?

"Pulse dropping. He's flatlining. Quick, where's that crash cart?" The doctor yelled nervously.

Flatlining...


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you so much to everyone who is supporting my story. It really does mean so much to me.

2

Pacing. Pacing was what Tony was doing and had been doing for the last half hour.

Once the helicarrier had arrived, doctors immediately loaded Steve onto it. For thirty seconds, Steve had no pulse but the doctors worked feverishly to regain it and eventually, his heart started beating again. Then, Tony lost sight of him as they wheeled him into surgery.

That was five hours ago. In five hours, Tony had managed to get out of his Ironman suit, have a shower and bug the doctors continuously until he had started pacing helplessly.

Bruce had showered immediately after boarding the dock and returned after twenty minutes, ready to help Steve in any way he could but the doctors wouldn't let him and, after an hour of trying, Fury had convinced him to sleep. He made Tony promise to wake him up as soon as Steve was out.

Thor and Natasha had spent the entire five hours screaming at each other, Thor saying that Steve was in bad shape and Natasha telling him to shut up or she would 'pull out his eyeballs'. They then started fighting about who would win in combat and their screaming was giving Tony an even bigger headache.

Clint had spent four hours cleaning his bow. He refused to stop, even when Fury tried to convince him to take a break and eat something. The worst part of it all, the part that made Tony and everyone else stop what they were doing, were the desperate screams and cries coming from the room where Steve was being operated in.

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Steve was in recovery and the doctor came out to talk to Tony and the others who had refused to leave. They stood up as soon as the doctor entered the room and the atmosphere tensed until the tenseness was almost palpable.

"He's okay." Tony stated, although it was more for confirmation than anything else.

"Uh, yes." The doctor replied and Tony felt like he could breathe again. It was not usually in Tony's character to care for someone so deeply but he found himself caring for each member of his team more and more as they spent more time together.

"Are we permitted to visit the Captain?" Thor asked, his booming voice pounding at Tony's already bad headache.

"Only one of you. The Captain is in very bad shape and he needs time to recuperate and heal, even with the serum." The doctor replied matter-of-factly.

"I'll go." Tony spoke up before anyone else had the chance. The doctor nodded and Tony followed her through the doors.

"Now, Mister Rogers sustained multiple injuries. His shoulder and collarbone are completely shattered so we performed surgery to realign the bone fragments. The wounds to his arm were deep but he just needed a few stitches." The doctor began.

"Oh that's all?" Tony said sarcastically with a rude snort at the end of his sentence.

"No. That's not all." The doctor replied humorlessly. "Mister Rogers also sustained multiple broken ribs, one of which punctured a lung. The wounds to his abdomen were deep and caused severe damage to the surrounding muscle and the intestines. We lost him once more on the table but managed to resuscitate him. He lost almost 50% of his blood volume which, in normal cases, is usually fatal."

"Thank God he's not normal." Tony remarked and the doctor shook her head disapprovingly.

They walked up to a door with a large window beside it, closed blinds blocking the view inside. "The lights are dimmed because of his concussion. When you go in, try distract him and take his mind off the pain." The doctor warned Tony.

"Is..." Tony couldn't seem to finish his sentence.

"Yes, he's in pain. Lots of it." The doctor confirmed and Tony swallowed nervously.

"That pain in the ass is tough. He can handle a little pain." Tony said convincingly.

"I hope you're right." The doctor said with a sigh of resignation before opening the door.

Inside, Steve lay on the hospital bed, his free hand pulling at the sheets and his body trembling slightly. He was drenched in sweat and his breathing was fast and uneven. Even in the dim lighting, Tony could see how pale Steve was. The doctor nodded and closed the door behind her, leaving Tony alone in the room with Steve.

"Cap." Tony said as he walked closer to the bed. Steve opened his eyes and his glazed blue ones met Tony's for a split second before he closed them again, his face scrunching in pain.

"How are you feeling?" Tony asked uncomfortably as he glanced around nervously.

"Is... Is everyone o-okay?" Steve said breathlessly, his voice shaky as his hand tightened further on the sheets.

"Yeah. We're all okay." Tony nodded slowly. Steve smiled briefly and Tony took the opportunity to quickly look over Steve's face. His cuts were already scabbed over and his bruises already fading. Tony's gaze shifted to the heavy bandaging on Steve's right arm and the sling holding it to his chest. The bruising on his shoulder was branching out from below the slightly bloodied bandages. His entire stomach was covered in bloody bandaging and his chest was covered in blue bruising.

"You, grandpa, are a dumb ass." Tony stated, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He walked closer to Steve and sat on a chair beside the bed. Steve opened his eyes again and looked at Tony as his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Why?" Steve asked.

"It takes a special level of stupidity to allow yourself to get thrown into a wall." Tony said with a smirk and he playfully punched Steve's left arm.

"S-sorry, we aren't all as skilled as... As you." Steve said with a poor attempt at a smile. Suddenly the ground beneath them shook and Tony stood up at the same time as Steve sat up, suppressing a cry of agony.

"Go check." Steve ordered Tony. Tony nodded as Steve pushed the covers off his legs and pulled the multiple needles out of his arm. Tony ran out of the room and towards the common area where he expected to find everyone else playing a game of cards or something like that. Instead, he found the room filled with smoke and he heard multiple grunts and screams coming from the midst of the smoke.

Eventually, Natasha came into sight and she placed her hands on Tony's shoulders. She had a gash below her eye that was bleeding and she seemed to be out of breath.

"Tony! Go find Rogers. I don't know who these people are but they're looking for him. They managed to breach our security. Run!" She screamed at him.

Tony cursed under his breath and ran back to Steve's room. On the way he saw Clint desperately trying to get out of a chokehold that a tall man in a black ski mask had on him. Bruce was unconscious on the floor, likely tazered. Thor was fighting off tens of men trying to reach him, cattle-prods poised to be used.

Eventually, Tony reached Steve's room but as he rushed inside he found blood on the floor by his feet and the blinds were pulled from the wall. The bed was overturned and the medical equipment was on the floor, shattered and broken. And, Steve was gone.

"What the fuck?" Tony said under his breath.

Suddenly, he felt a burning pain on the back of his head and he felt himself falling to the ground. With a thud, he landed on his side and his vision blurred. Then, it all went black.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi everyone. I want to thank everyone who is reading this. And a huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed or favorited. I really do appreciate it.

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3

Throbbing. Tony could feel throbbing at the back of his head. He could feel a trickle of blood making its way down his neck and he tried to touch it but his arms seemed too sluggish to move.

He managed to orientate himself enough to take in his surroundings despite the fact that his eyes were closed. He could feel the smooth concrete beneath his body, his cheek was pressed up against it, the cold supplying relief to his headache. The room he was in was cold but not cold enough to induce shivers.

He shifted from his position and he heard the sound of chains rattling and something was pushing against his wrist. He opened his eyes in alarm and found himself in a dimly lit room with concrete flooring and soundproof walling. He swore loudly when he found shackles and chains on his wrists and ankles, barely four feet away from the wall which meant he wouldn't be able to move very far.

The thing that worried him most was the soft groan he heard coming from somewhere on the other side of the room. His vision was blurry and he blinked rapidly to clear it. Finally, his eyes focused on a shirtless figure clad in a torn Captain America suit.

Steve?

He was hanging from chains that were attached to the ceiling, his feet barely touching the ground. His bandages had been ripped off, revealing the multiple stitched wounds on his arm and the reopened wounds on his stomach. His right shoulder was still bruised which meant the serum hasn't been given a chance to heal it and hanging from a ceiling probably wasn't helping.

Steve was unconscious and a bag was over his head, constricting Tony's view of his face.

"Yo, Cap?" Tony said loud enough for Steve to hear.

Steve was about twelve feet away from Tony but Tony's restraints prevented him from getting closer, and no matter how much he struggled and writhed, the chains didn't budge or loosen. Tony received a pained groan in reply but no actual words. Tony looked around the room and found a camera in each corner of the room, at the top of the walls.

"Steve, wake up, man." Tony said as his gaze fixed on the shallow rise and fall of Steve's chest.

"T-Tony?" Steve stuttered and Tony saw his body tense.

"Yeah, it's me." Tony replied.

He wanted to make a smart ass response but he had the feeling that Steve wouldn't get it and he felt that the current moment wasn't exactly the right time to crack a wise one. Especially when Steve was half conscious and they were both chained to walls.

"Where?" Steve asked softly.

His voice was weak and he seemed to be struggling to form coherent sentences. His body tensed and he pulled at the chains holding him to the ceiling. He cried out in pain and went lax again as he breathed heavily.

"I don't know where we are." Tony replied. "And don't pull at your chains like that you idiot."

Suddenly the door burst open and one tall man with bulging muscles and no hair walked in. His black eyes staring directly at Steve. Four men of almost identical stature followed him inside, one carrying a chair and the others holding guns, knives and whips.

"Good day mister Rogers. Nice to see you're awake." The apparent leader said with a South African accent.

He pulled the bag off Steve's head and Steve squinted as his eyes focused on the face in front of him. Tony stood to his full height, cleared his throat and began,

"Hey, dumbass." The leader turned to look at Tony in shock. "Yeah, you. Why are we here because if this is your idea of a holiday, well... Then you're fucking retarded."

Tony mocked the man and the man immediately walked towards Tony and grabbed his chin between long fingers.

"Listen to me, mister Stark. You are of no importance to me. Verstaan jy? I took you because you got in the way of our escape plan and I kept you because I figured we could use you as leverage. Isn't that right, boets?" The man said calmly.

The four men at the door nodded and laughed. Tony looked at them then at Steve who was struggling silently at his restraints.

"Leverage for what?" Tony asked.

"For what, you ask. For what? What do you think?" The man said as he let go of Tony and took a few steps back so as to look at Tony properly.

"Well, I am a billionaire and I'm Ironman so I can be used as leverage in most situations. So, narrow it down for me, why don't you?" Tony snapped angrily, his patience already worn thin.

"Enough with the smartass shit." The man said calmly before the man lashed out and Tony felt the side of his face erupt in pain.

"Hey! Don't touch him." Steve screamed and his chains rattled as he pulled from them, his wounds starting to bleed again.

"Enough!" The man yelled and the vicious tone in his deep voice made Steve and Tony stand motionless and speechless. "Let me explain this to you, Rogers." The man continued. "You see the corners of this room? Of course you do. And, you see the cameras at the top of the corners? Of course. Well, we're going to be filming your - for lack of a better word - torture."

"His torture?" Tony yelled as his heartbeat increased and he began struggling again.

"Yes. You see, the boss wants us to see just how far we can push the serum in Rogers' body before his body gives up and he dies. Once he's dead, we'll extract the serum and transfer it to the boss, thereby giving him Rogers' powers." The man explained nonchalantly as an evil smile spread across his face.

"You can't transfer the serum. It doesn't work like that." Steve said and the man turned to look at him.

Steve was panting slightly and Tony couldn't help but stare at the dreadfully pale complexion of Steve's skin, drenched in sweat.

"I think you'll find it does." The man said with a simple shrug of the shoulders. "Now, here's how it works. Rogers will be subjected to multiple torture techniques. If, at any time throughout the process, one of you decides to be a hero, Mister Stark will be beaten. Each time you annoy me, the consequences on Stark only increase in severity. If, you try to escape, we will kill Stark but continue torture on you, Rogers. Stark, if you try save the day, you will be met with severe punishment. Understood?" The man said with authority as the men by the door walked further into the centre of the room, placing the chair on the floor and dropping rope next to it.

When the man received no response he screamed, "Verstaan jy? Ja of nee? Do you understand?"

"Fuck you." Tony muttered and the man nodded in satisfaction.

"So you do understand." He replied with an obnoxious laugh at the end of his sentence.

Two men ran to Steve and unshackled him. He fell to the floor and the men put their arms under his arms to pull him up but he pushed them off and stood by himself, on shaky and unsteady legs.

The men pulled his arms behind his back, not caring as Steve gasped in agony as it jostled his injured shoulder. They pushed him to the chair and made him sit. Steve was about to fight them off but as he was about to make a move, the leader pushed a knife against Tony's throat so Steve receded and allowed himself to be tied to the hair without struggle.

Tony locked gazes with Steve, who was facing him, and a million emotions could be read in their eyes. Worry. Fear. Anger.

"Are you ready, Rogers?" The leader asked as he walked away from Tony and took a long knife from one of the men's hands and flipped it in his fingers. Steve made no reply but the man didn't seem to care. He looked at Tony and smiled.

"Are you ready, Stark?" He asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be." Tony replied sarcastically.

"Good." The man said as he plunged the knife deep into Steve's left thigh. Steve let out a cry if agony as the four men secured the restraints on him and the leader pushed the knife in deeper.

"You sick fuck!" Tony yelled as he struggled desperately against his restraints.

"I am, aren't I." The man said, laughing maliciously.

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Afrikaans to English translation.

verstaan jy - do you understand

ja of nee - yes or no

boets - brothers/friends.


	4. Chapter 4

Hi guys, thanks so much for all the support. You guys are the reason I keep writing this story!

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4

"Rogers, I think you'll find that you are blessed with a very special gift. Not everyone can survive in ice for seventy years and live. The serum clearly gives you very special abilities. Your strength surpasses that of a normal human being and you heal at a much faster rate than normal. These two vital advantages of the serum can be used in ways that can achieve outstanding things. Things that your average brain cannot comprehend." The man said as he ripped the knife out of Steve's left thigh.

Steve didn't react when the pain worked its way up his leg and he didn't react when the knife trailed up his thigh leaving torn material and a trail of blood behind.

However, Tony reacted. He screamed and cursed and yelled as the blood oozed out of Steve's new wound. He pulled at his chains until his wrists were raw and bleeding and even then, he kept pulling.

"My boss, he needs this serum. And he sent me to get it. But, he first wants to know how effective the serum is so he knows how far he can push himself. Looking at you, Rogers, it appears that your broken ribs are almost fully healed already. In the space of only hours." The man said and he walked in circles around Steve.

Steve kept eye contact at all times.

"Your wounds on your arms appear to be mostly healed, your stomach and shoulder, however, don't seem to be healing at the same rate. Although, most people would have died from the wounds you've acquired. The serum appears to be more effective than we initially thought." The man said, almost as though talking to himself.

"You're a fucking Neanderthal, you know that?" Tony quipped angrily as his face grew red with anger.

"Ah, at that rather rude note," the man began just as he nodded to one of the other four men, "I am Roberts. You may call me only by my name and no other name. Understood?"

The man Roberts had nodded to was only feet away from Tony. Tony glared at Roberts before shifting his gaze to the man in front of him just in time to see the fist flying at his face. He felt the sting at his cheekbone and he felt his skin split as blood poured out.

"You're testing my patience, Stark." Roberts said.

"Yeah, mission accomplished." Tony retorted and it earned him another punch on the same cheek.

He bit his bottom lip to stop a groan from leaving his lips.

"Enough." Steve said authoritatively.

"You do not get to call the shots." Roberts said as he trailed the knife along Steve's injured right shoulder.

Tony watched helplessly as Steve's body tensed under the touch of the knife and he swallowed thickly as Steve's skin tore and blood poured out of yet another cut that stretched across the entire span of his shoulders.

"Why do you have Tony? He's of no use to you. If you let him go, I will cooperate." Steve begged, trying to ignore the physical pain being inflicted on him.

"It doesn't work like that." Roberts said with a disapproving shake of the head.

Roberts stopped walking and stood in front of Steve, blocking Tony's view. Suddenly Tony saw the knife in Roberts' hand rise. The knife was brought down with alarming velocity and stabbed into Steve's abdomen. This time, Steve could not hold back his scream. He screamed in agony as Roberts twisted the knife and pushed it deeper. Steve struggled at his restraints but they were too secure and his weakened state wasn't allowing him he strength he needed to break free.

"You fucking dick." Tony yelled angrily, only to be met with a painful punch to the stomach. He almost doubled over in pain.

"What did I Saturday about the names, Stark?" Roberts said as he pulled the knife out of Steve's stomach. Steve cried out in pain and he went limp in the chair as Tony watched the blood... The life... Oozing out of him.

"Untie them and lock the doors. We will return at a later stage." Roberts said as he left the room.

The four men untied Steve and pulled him off the chair roughly, he dropped to the ground with a thud. The four men then unchained Tony before leaving. Tony stood still for a second as he rubbed at the rawness on his wrists. He heard multiple locks clicking into place and multiple gates being closed. He sighed before returning his attention to Steve who had still not moved.

"Hey, Spangles?" Tony said playfully, desperately trying to cover the panic and worry in his voice.

Steve didn't reply and Tony knew that meant that Steve had lost consciousness. At least he wasn't in pain. But, Tony also knew that he wouldn't stay unconscious for much longer. He ran up to Steve and dropped down beside him. He pushed Steve over and maneuvered him so he was lying on his back instead of his face. He looked at the bleeding stab wound on Steve's leg and was glad to see that the long cut up his thigh was already healing. The serum taking affect immediately.

However, the same could not be said for the stab wound on his leg or the stab wound on his abdomen. The wounds were bleeding heavily and, combined with the multiple already existent bleeding wounds on Steve's stomach and arm, the blood loss was more than a little alarming. Steve's shoulder was still misshapen and bruised which worried Tony because broken bones usually healed faster than that with the help of the serum. Clearly the kidnappers had jostled and moved the realigned bones and left them misaligned once again.

Tony heard a pained groan and his thoughts were interrupted as he looked down at Steve's face. His pale face was covered in sweat and as soon as the groan left Steve's lips, his face contorted in agony.

"Steve," Tony said, using Steve's first name instead of a nickname, "look at me. I'm right here. Look at me. Okay?"

Steve's eyes opened and they darted around frantically before resting on Tony's. Tony nodded and gave Steve's arm a pat of reassurance. Tony looked down at the wounds on Steve's stomach and leg warily. They were bleeding profusely and he was almost positive that Steve was losing too much blood.

"I need to put pressure on the wounds. Okay? It's going to hurt like a bitch though." Tony said to Steve who just nodded tiredly.

Tony tore a piece of material off his shirt, not caring that he was ripping up a one hundred dollar shirt, and shifted so he was kneeling close to Steve's stomach. He looked around as he tore off a second piece of material and he found his thoughts drifting to the men who had taken them.

He knew that they hadn't done enough research on the serum simply because if they had done enough research, they would know that you couldn't transfer the serum by simply transferring blood. They would also know exactly how long it took for Steve to heal and they therefore wouldn't have to experiment by means of torture. The simple fact that they were unaware of the serum's true powers provided some comfort to Tony when he realized that they also wouldn't know just how strong Steve was. And that meant that there was a tiny glimmer of hope that he and Steve could escape. The kidnappers were more than likely unprepared and unaware so breaking through their security would be easy.

If only Steve hadn't been so hurt.

Any plans Tony had of escaping were crushed as he looked at Steve, lying helplessly in front of him, bleeding out and only semiconscious, unable to even form coherent thoughts.

"Okay, on three." Tony said as he looked at Steve's feature crinkled in pain. He balled the material of his shirt in his hands and held them above the stab wounds. "One, two... Three."

He pushed the material onto the wounds and Steve immediately cried out in agony as his back arched.

"I'm sorry. Just, talk to me. Tell me about... When was the last time you had a date?" Tony rambled, desperately trying to distract Steve from the pain and keep him conscious and hopefully lucid.

"I... I... Uh-I.." Steve tried to speak through gritted teeth but he couldn't seem to push past the pain.

Tony kept pushing, even as he felt the material become soaked in blood. He kept pushing even as he saw a lone tear trickle down Steve's face. He kept pushing even as he saw the other wounds in Steve's stomach reopen again as Steve tensed in agony. He just kept pushing.

"Come on, you've had a date before, right?" Tony said in a soft voice nothing like his usual cocky tone.

"I... A-almost." Steve managed to say as he tried to compose himself.

"Almost? So you're telling me that in the century you've lived, you haven't been on a single date?" Tony asked playfully. He lifted up the blood soaked material, glad to see that the bleeding had slowed considerably.

"I-I spent... I spent s-seventy years of... Of it f-frozen." Steve retorted and Tony snorted.

"That's no excuse. I know ten year olds who have reached second base before!" Tony teased. He slowly took the material off the wounds again and smiled when he saw the bleeding had come to a stop, almost. He sat back and looked at Steve's wet face.

"Second base?" Steve asked as his face relaxed slightly.

"You know, touching boobs and shit." Tony explained when he realized that Steve wasn't exactly 'up to date' on all the modern colloquialisms.

"At t-ten!" Steve exclaimed, shock evident in his voice.

Tony chuckled and wiped the blood off his hands and onto what remained of his bloodied shirt. Steve managed to prop himself onto one elbow after minutes of catching his breath and slowly maneuver himself to a wall so he could sit up. He winced at the effort and by the time he reached the wall he was out of breath and even paler than before but at least his wounds had stopped bleeding. The only worrying thing was his shoulder which was the source of most of his pain and it was extremely misshapen. With Steve's advanced healing rate, the shoulder muscles would mend themselves around the misaligned bones. But, with no medical equipment, there was nothing that could be done.

"So, tell me about this 'almost date'." Tony said as he stood up and strode over to Steve, plonking down beside him.

"I was going to go dancing." Steve explained as he closed his eyes.

Tony thought back to the stories his father had told him of Steve and Peggy and he remembered the audio of Steve's last words to Peggy. The hurt in their voices and the knowledge that it would be their last words to each other clearly evident in their strained voices.

"But, something came up and it never happened." Steve said sadly.

"Peggy?" Tony asked.

Since he was a child, Tony had always wanted to talk to Steve about Peggy. He was enamored, at a stage in his life, with the love and passion between them and, he knew that Peggy never got over Steve. Even as she married and had children, she never forgot Steve. The concept of total love and the complete need for one another had interested Tony. He didn't understand how you could love someone so much that decades later, they still plagued your every thought.

"Yeah." Steve nodded slowly, sadly.

"Tell me about her." Tony said.

"She was beautiful. A pretty woman and one of the kindest, most compassionate people I have ever known. She had this... This thing about her, where she walked into a room and suddenly, all your attention was on her whether you wanted it to be or not. And she was one of the most confident people I knew. She... Words can't describe her." Steve said as his gaze became distant and his voice adopted a dreamlike quality to it.

"She sounds..." Tony began but he trailed off, looking for the right word to describe her.

"Perfect." Steve completed his sentence for him.

Tony nodded and smiled. He loved Pepper, he really did, but Steve made his love for Peggy sound like something one could only dream of or read about. He made it seem like she was his everything. Not only in his words but in the way his voice changed when he spoke about her and his features softened.

"Well, Cap. Let me tell you, you make love sound easy." Tony commented mindlessly.

"With Peggy, it was." Steve said as he straightened his posture, wincing as it pulled on his multiple injuries.

Tony and Steve spent hours speaking about Peggy and Pepper. Tony told multiple stories of all the 'useless shit' in his house he had broken while testing his multiple Ironman suits. Steve told multiple stories of Bucky and Doctor Erskine. He spoke about all the times he'd been beaten up and Bucky had saved him. They spoke and spoke until Steve's wounds were nothing but scabs, excluding his shoulder which was less bruised but still extremely misshapen and extremely painful, motionless and useless.

Then, Roberts walked back in followed by another man. This man was at least six-foot-seven and was built like a truck. The four men from Roberts' previous visit entered after the large man and dragged a struggling Tony back to his chains where they restrained him and, for the fun of it, got in a few good punches to his manhood.

Steve struggled and writhed as the four men, with the help of about seven others, re-chained him to the ceiling. Steve's shoulder had healed in such a way that his arm was stuck against his chest and the large man had to pull at it so hard that Tony heard a pop and crunch from the other side of the room, accompanied by Steve's scream of agony, in order to get it in a position to be shackled to the ceiling.

The multiple 'helpers' left the room and locked the door behind them, leaving only the large man, Roberts, Steve, who was breathing heavily as he tried to forget the pain in his shoulder and was suspended from the ceiling, and Tony, who was struggling at his restraints.

"Ready for round two, Rogers?" Roberts asked as he laughed evilly and took a few steps back.

Tony gasped as the large man took a step forward and brought out a long leather whip that separated into multiple sections and had hooks at the end of each part. They were going to whip Steve's back.

"No!" Tony yelled, his action earned him a punch in the stomach and a glare from Roberts.

"This, Rogers, is when the pain really begins." Roberts commented.

Tony found himself hoping, praying, that S.H.I.E.L.D. was looking for them. Deep down, he knew they were.

The large man lifted up the whip and Tony looked away just as he heard Steve's strangled cry of agony and the unmistakable sound of skin tearing.


	5. Chapter 5

5

S.H.I.E.L.D. has had more that's its fair share of attacks. Of course, it's expected when the core of their job is to fight off evil aliens and power hungry tyrants.

The helicarrier has been attacked multiple times but, this time was different. None of their soldiers had ever been taken hostage, not since the Chitauri fight. Their leader was gone and injured, badly. Tony was gone and, more than likely, without his suit or a weapon of any kind.

The helicarrier was in ruins and there were so many casualties. Natasha could relay the scene in her head in perfect clarity.

_Her, Thor, Bruce and Clint were all waiting for Tony to come back so they could take a chance to see Steve. Fury had ordered them to get some rest but they had ignored him. The authority that was usually clear in his voice had all but disappeared and been replaced with worry. _

_Worry for Steve. _

_Coulson was stopping by every few minutes, asking anxiously after Steve. Sighing and slouching when their reply was always,_

_ "Haven't seen him yet." _

_That's when it all happened. _

_Natasha felt the ground beneath her shake and as she stood she heard the alarms go off. Without hesitation, Natasha grabbed the nearest gun and ran towards the area that had been breached. Clint followed closely behind with his bow and arrow at the ready. Thor was walking confidently, a smirk on his face that told Natasha he was ready for anything. And Bruce looked nervous but she knew never to worry about him. He was Hulk and Hulk was basically invincible. _

_Suddenly, the interior of the helicarrier filled with smoke and about forty armed men ran out of it, towards Natasha and the other agents. Natasha was tackled to the ground roughly and she fought to gain power. Right hook to the jaw, left uppercut to the chin, bullet wound to the forehead. _

_She couldn't see around her as the smoke enveloped her but she heard multiple grunts and thuds from nearby. She fought and killed as more people tried to attack her. That's when she was knocked to the ground again. _

_"Who are you?" She screamed as the man punched her. She felt blood slowly oozing down her face. _

_"It matters not." The man replied in an accent Natasha was unfamiliar with. _

_"It matters to me, dipshit." She said as she punched him in the chest, smirking at the sound of ribs breaking. _

_"We just want Captain America and we'll be on our merry little way." The man replied smugly. _

_Natasha pushed him to the side and picked up his gun, hers having been emptied, and with a few final words, ended his life. _

_"You won't be on your way, you dick." Natasha whispered as she dropped her gun and ran to find Tony. To warn him. Eventually, she found him and she told him to go protect Steve. She planned to find them after the attack was over. _

Now, the attack was over and the smoke had cleared. Natasha had run to Steve's room only to find it destroyed, empty and bloodstained. Natasha searched the helicarrier but found them nowhere.

She returned to the place where the breach of security took place. There she found two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents being zipped into body bags and she said a silent prayer to honor them and thank them for their sacrifices.

Bruce was standing next to an agent who was bleeding from a wound to the arm. But, Bruce seemed unharmed. Thor was helping an agent to their feet but, he too seemed unharmed barring a few scrapes and bruises. Clint was bleeding quite heavily from a wound on his shoulder but it was getting seen to by a medic.

"I can't find Steve." Natasha announced and immediately Thor, Clint and Bruce all stopped what they were doing to look at her. Fury and Coulson had arrived and they were standing motionless beside Natasha.

"Agent Romanoff, Angent Barton, Thor and Doctor Banner... Meeting. Now." Fury ordered them as he and Coulson left and walked to the conference room.

Once Clint was stitched up, the for of them walked to the conference room. They each took their usual seats and stared emotionlessly at Fury, who was looking out the window. Coulson was standing by the door, the smile that usually brightened up his face had disappeared.

"Where is Rogers?" Fury asked.

His voice remained calm but, as he turned around, Natasha noticed the slightest bit of worry evident in his eye.

"I'm not sure, sir. I have looked for him everywhere but he's not on the helicarrier." Natasha replied.

"And Stark?" Fury inquired as he walked closer to Natasha.

"Same report, sir." Natasha replied slowly but confidently.

"We believe we know who the dumbasses who attacked us are." Fury said and he nodded to Coulson who walked up to the table.

"Grant Roberts." Coulson said.

His voice was filled with both anxiety and anger but it remained somewhat confident.

"Born in Johannesburg, South Africa in 1977."

A picture of him appeared on the board. He was dark skinned and bald with bulging muscles on his tall figure.

"Wanted in South Africa for the torture of seven men who belonged to a rival gang. The seven men were found mutilated, with signs of extreme physical torture that had evidence of lasting for weeks before their death. All were dead except one, who managed to give a description of Roberts before dying during surgery." Coulson explained further.

"I do not understand. What is his use of our captain?" Thor asked, seemingly confused.

"Roberts left his country and brought his fat ass to America. Here, he was seen joining a group of men also wanted around the world. Each having fled from their respective countries. The leader of this group is unknown but this group is suspected in the murder and torture of over two hundred people. They have diplomatic immunity here and we, as a country, are not allowed to ship them back to their own countries. And, even if we were, the stupid ass people are almost invisible. They leave behind only what they want to leave behind in terms of evidence. They never get seen. Never get caught but, leave behind enough evidence to let the FBI know whatever was done was their doing." Fury replied.

He was looking out the window again and he was tense.

"So, we need to find them. Come on, we're S.H.I.E.L.D. We can do everything." Clint stated as if it was obvious.

"It's not that simple. We don't know where they are. We don't even know who most of them are." Coulson replied nervously.

"So, we find it out. We have so many resources available to us. You cannot be telling me that none of them can find these people." Natasha said, standing up excitedly.

"How do we find stuff out when we've got nothing to begin with?" Fury snapped.

"Well, we have all those agents who worked with Roberts who are dead. If we find out their names we can find out their associates' names." Bruce spoke up.

Natasha nodded and sat back down. She rested her feet on the table and cleared her throat. She was trying to remain calm but she was overwhelmed with worry. It's scary how much you learn to care for someone so quickly. Especially when that someone has risked their lives for your own. Although, she would never admit it out loud.

"Then we get our captain and the man of iron back alive and well." Thor boomed from his seat. At that, both Fury and Coulson looked at their feet and sighed nervously.

"What are you not telling us?" Natasha said, placing her feet back on the floor.

"No one has ever lived after being abducted by Roberts." Coulson replied quietly.

"But Steve has the serum and I'm sure he'll protect Tony." Clint rebutted.

"Unless Steve and Tony can survive being beheaded and disemboweled, they don't stand a chance." Fury said firmly from his spot by the window.

"What? So you're telling me that they're going to die?" Natasha asked, nervous sweat beading on her forehead.

"Yes." Coulson nodded.

"How long did they keep their other captives alive for?" Bruce asked, his voice shaky with worry.

"A week. Exactly." Fury replied.

"It's been twelve hours since the attack began." Coulson added.

"Now, you all listen to me. We have six and a half days. I want my agents back by the end of the week and I want them alive. It is out of my jurisdiction, the FBI wanted to handle this case. But, I want all of you to look for them whilst we try to identify Roberts' associates. This is going to be an under the radar operation. Understood?" Fury said as he leaned against the table and stared at the soldiers in front of him.

"You have six and a half days. Make them count." He said as he left the room, whispering something in Coulson's ear.

"Bruce. Go to the lab, work on the DNA from the dead attackers." Coulson said and Bruce stood up quickly and left the room.

"Clint and Natasha, search the helicarrier for any signs of evidence they might have left behind. Follow blood trails to see where they took Steve and Tony. Do not miss any details." Coulson said to Natasha and Clint.

Clint stood up immediately but Natasha remained sitting. She nodded to Clint, telling him to begin without her.

"Thor, I want you to fly above New York. If you find any signs of Steve, Tony or Roberts, report back and we can assemble a team to help you." Coulson said.

"I will be glad to be of assistance." Thor said as he stood up and left the conference room.

Natasha stood up and grabbed Coulson's arm in her hand. She stood so close to him that she could feel his breath on her cheek.

"Coulson, cut the crap, okay? What are our chances of getting Rogers and Stark out alive?" Natasha whispered.

"Honestly? Almost non existent." Coulson replied sadly.

"So you're telling me that I might never see them alive again?" Natasha asked. Her voice was cold. Angry.

"I'm telling you to prepare yourself for a great loss." Coulson said and he pulled his arm out of her grasp and left the room, flashing her a saddened smile.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

**thanks to everyone kind enough to review, follow or favourite my story. You guys are the best. **

**This chapter is shorter than the rest but... Oh well. **

* * *

"We can escape." Steve said, his voice was far weaker than usual which worried Tony to no end.

"Listen, Cap, I hate to tell you that you're wrong but... You're wrong. We're trapped in a fucking cell built for something like Banner and you're useless at the moment." Tony snorted, gesturing to the still bleeding wounds on Steve's back.

Tony and Steve were lying on the ground, their backs against the wall. Steve had endured more than an hour of whipping until his back was only a mess of blood and flesh. Only then did the torturers unlock his shackles, allowing him to fall to the ground as they untied Tony then left the room. Steve remained motionless in a pool of his own blood, his breathing ragged and his face contorted in absolute agony.

Tony crawled over to Steve and turned him onto his stomach so that his back would remain untouched by the dirty concrete floor. Steve groaned in agony as Tony attempted to slow the blood oozing out of the festering wounds on Steve's back. After about half an hour of Steve fighting to remain conscious as Tony applied pressure to the wounds, Steve managed to push himself to a sitting position and scramble backwards until his back was against the wall. His back stung as it came in contact with the wall but Steve ignored the pain as the cold from the concrete soothed the heat radiating off his back.

Tony was, for the first time in a while, worried about the super soldier. Steve was deathly pale and he had lost more blood in twelve hours than Tony had thought possible. Sure, Steve would continue fighting, refuse to succumb to weakness but, Tony knew that everyone had their limits, even Steve. And, most worrying of all, Tony had a gut feeling that Steve's limits were close.

Tony wasn't sure whether it was the blood loss or the stress of the situation but, something was affecting Steve's healing rate. His shoulder was grossly misshapen and his back was still bleeding after an hour and a half of healing time. It should have started scabbing over at least a little but it hadn't, at all.

As Steve and Tony sat there in silence, Tony was shocked when Steve stated that they could escape. He had thought that Steve had lost consciousness over an hour ago but, clearly, he had just been resting.

"I have a plan." Steve said, pushing himself up into a straighter position whilst trying to hold in an agonized cry as the movement pulled on his back.

"Oh yeah?" Tony replied sarcastically, his hand subconsciously rubbing over the wound on his cheek. It had stopped bleeding a long time ago but it still stung.

"You need to get out of here." Steve replied, his blue eyes looking into Tony's hazel ones.

"Oh, of course! That's the only logical thing to do!" Tony exclaimed sarcastically, smacking his forehead as a gesture of sarcasm and idiocy.

"I'm serious, Stark." Steve replied, his expression fierce and more determined that Tony had ever seen it before.

"How do you propose I do that, superman?" Tony asked, snorting.

"I heard them talking." Steve said, shifting from his position against the wall so he was on all fours. He was trying to get up but his legs felt like jelly and his one arm was completely useless. Tony swallowed the bile that rose in his throat as he spotted the blood running down the section of the wall where Steve's back had rested.

"When?" Tony asked, getting up to help Steve.

He looped his hands around Steve's right shoulder in an attempt to get him to his feet but he was promptly shrugged off by a stubborn Steve. Tony took a step back, holding his hands up in the air in mock surrender.

"After they had whipped me." Steve said, using the wall to finally get to his feet.

"What did they say?" Tony asked, his anxiety rising to an unbelievable level as he saw even more color drain from Steve's face. Steve swayed on his feet and fell to his knees again.

"Spangles? What's wrong?" Tony asked, forgetting their previous conversation as he rushed to Steve's side.

"I... It's nothing." Steve replied with a shake of the head, his eyes squeezing shut as a wave of nausea hit him.

"Bullshit. What's wrong?" Tony asked again, kneeling beside Steve who had begun swaying on his knees.

"I'm... Just hungry." Steve replied.

Tony laughed slightly at the unexpected statement but his laughter came to a halt when he suddenly realized the ache in his own stomach. His stomach was growling and he felt slightly nauseous. It was then that he realized that neither he nor Steve had eaten in twelve hours. And then the realization dawned on him.

Tony was feeling slightly woozy and weak after being starved but, Steve was feeling four times as bad. His metabolism worked four times faster than that of a normal human being's and after twelve hours of being starved, Steve was starting to feel the full effects of being famished.

"It's fine. I'm fine." Steve said quickly as he used the wall to push himself to his feet once again. He was still wobbly on his feet but, with the support of the wall, he was able to stay standing.

"So... Tell me about your plan." Tony said, getting to his own feet and licking his lips. His mouth was dry and his throat was like sandpaper. He hadn't had anything to drink in almost an entire day.

"I heard the men saying that they'd take you out of the room." Steve said, shuffling closer to the door before testing its strength and rigidity. He pushed and pulled on it but it didn't budge.

"Why?" Tony asked, frowning.

"So they could commence my next torture." Steve said, shrugging one shoulder as though he wasn't phased by it.

"Cap, you're-" Tony began but Steve cut him off.

"Once they take you outside, I need you to get a really good look at the outside of the cell so we can have a general idea of what we are up against before we attempt to escape." Steve said, leaning against the wall as he swallowed down the bile rising in his throat.

"Cap, I won't leave you alone." Tony said.

Sure, he and Steve fought... A lot. Their opinions differed, their personalities clashed and they just annoyed each other. But, both men were willing to lay down their lives for the other. And, Tony wasn't willing to let Steve go through hell without the support of someone who cared for him.

"That might not be your choice." Steve said plainly. The thing that alarmed Tony was the resignation in Steve's voice... Something he never thought he would hear.

Suddenly, the door swung open with a loud bang and a group of ten men rushed in, all armed with guns or knives. Four grabbed Tony's arms and legs and hoisted him into the air whilst another six grabbed a struggling Steve and pinned him against the floor. No amount of thrashing loosened their grip on Tony or Steve but, they refused to stop trying to break free. Tony kicked and punched out, trying desperately to break free whilst Steve wriggled and jabbed out as the six men put all their body weight on him to keep him down.

Then, Roberts walked in. He smirked as he saw the two struggling men in front of him.

"Men, take Mister Stark outside. Okay? Take him to the observation room." Roberts said and the men immediately started dragging Tony to the door, ignoring his angered insults and rude comments directed towards them.

"As for Rogers, prepare him for our next procedure." Roberts added as the men started tying Steve's arms and legs to the latches in the the ground, effectively keeping him unable to move or even thrash around.

* * *

"Agent Romanoff, agent Barton, conference room immediately." Fury said before he turned his back on them and ambled to the conference room.

"What the hell?" Clint asked as he and Natasha finished their search of the helicarrier and made their way to the conference room.

"Maybe they've found something." Natasha shrugged, silently hoping that hey had somehow managed to locate Steve. All the feelings she was experiencing confused Natasha. She had never felt so worried about someone and she couldn't help but question whether there were maybe deeper feelings she refused to acknowledge.

Once they were in the room they were met by Thor, Bruce and Fury, staring intensely at the screen in front of them. Natasha and Clint sat in their usual seats and Natasha had to suppress a gasp as she took in the scene in front of her.

The screen was split into two. On the left side Tony was hanging from the wall, his eyes taped open as he struggled against the chains. Tony was staring at something in front of him and as Natasha looked at the right side of the screen, she realized what it was that held Tony's attention. Steve was tied to the ground, lying in a pool of his own blood. Drying blood covered Steve's sides and stomach, scabs visible on his abdomen. His shoulder was still badly bruised and Steve looked like he was going to pass out.

He was pale and his breathing was uneven and shallow but, his glare was threatening and intimidating as ever. He was staring at something slightly to his right, out of the camera's angle.

Suddenly, the thing Steve was looking at came into view of the camera. It was a man, a ski mask covered his face and he had a voice modifier.

"Fury, Barton, Romanoff, Thor, Banner and Coulson, I hope you have cleared your schedules because for the next few days you are going to be watching your friend's extremely slow and incredibly painful death. Enjoy." The man said, his mouth twisting into an evil grin.

"I know where they are." Bruce said, his voice soft and calm but loud enough to draw the attention of everyone in the room. "I know where they're keeping Tony and Steve."


	7. Chapter 7

_So, I'm just writing a quick author's note to warn you about this chapter. This chapter goes into detail about Steve's torture, it will be bloody and violent. _

_Anyway, enjoy and review if you like it! _

_Thanks so much to everyone who has already reviewed, favorited or followed. You have no idea how much it means to me._

* * *

"What do you mean you know where they are? Where are they?" Natasha inquired as she leaned forward in her seat, her head being held in her hands.

"I've been there before, a few years ago." Bruce replied, rapping his knuckles on the desk. He hadn't stopped staring at the screen, despite the fact that no further activity had taken place.

"Banner, where the hell is it?" Clint said, his voice loud as he stood up.

Everyone in the room was feeling the pressure... The worry and anxiety. Steve was their leader and they respected him, if not anything else. But, they had all managed to build somewhat of a friendly relationship with him. Steve was protective of his team, willing to die for them and they were willing to do the same for him. And, Tony. Yes, he was arrogant and annoying, at times even unbearably so but, they couldn't help but like him. He might have been self absorbed but he was willing to risk everything for his team. He had proven it in the Chitauri incident, earning their respect and friendship.

"Enough. Agent Barton, sit your ass down and pay attention." Fury ordered as there was a new flurry of activity on the screen.

Men were scrambling around a struggling Steve and Tony was pulling at his restraints as he screamed, the audio not coming through in the video. Then, the man appeared again, looking up into the camera with an evil smile.

"I suggest you look away if you can't handle it." The man said, his voice patronizing.

For a long while, the Avengers sat motionless and speechless in their seats as they stared, mesmerized, at the horrific torture taking place in front of them.

The man walked away form the camera, nearing Steve with something in his hands. As he shifted on his feet, the thing in his large hands became visible and Natasha couldn't help the gasp that escaped her lips. The man was holding a large wooden bat, the length of a baseball bat but the width of two. On it were tens of small, sharp metal spikes resembling thorns on trees.

"Now, Rogers, are you ready? This is going to hurt." The man said, an evil chuckle breaking out as he said the last few words.

Steve pulled at the strong chains holding him down and, for the umpteenth time, Natasha stared the small puddle of blood forming on the ground underneath Steve's back. She balled her hands into tight fists as the man took a few steps closer to Steve.

Tony was struggling with all his might against the restraints on his ankles and wrists, screaming until his face was red. A swift kick to the stomach by one of the guards put a halt to his consistent screaming but not to his struggling.

"Let me explain exactly why this is my favorite torture device." The man said, never looking away from the modified bat in his hands. "You see, with enough velocity, this bat can break bones. Ribs, arms, legs, back... You name it. But, I also get to enjoy the fantastic sight of these metal spikes tearing the skin into shreds. Much like a whip, but more enjoyable."

Steve thrashed and yanked at the chains with all his might but his efforts were useless as the chains didn't budge. Then, the man walked slightly closer to Steve and, with one sweeping motion, he lifted his arms up above his head and brought the bat down, the wood and metal spikes coming into contact with Steve's exposed chest.

Steve screamed in pain and arched his back as the man pulled the bat off of Steve, slowly and deliberately, the spikes leaving long, deep gashes along Steve's chest. The other men in the room laughed loudly, making Thor tense in anticipation of snapping their necks the minute he laid eyes on them.

The man brought the bat up again and it hit Steve on the stomach. Steve screamed and writhed in agony as the man pulled the bat down Steve's stomach, leaving long, bleeding gashes across Steve's abdomen. The man did it again, once again striking Steve's chest, smiling in satisfaction when he heard Steve's cry of pain.

Tony pulled harder at his restraints, screaming words the Avengers could not hear. One of the guards punched Tony in the stomach, warranting a strangled cry from Tony and leaving him breathless.

The man brought down the bat again, this time to Steve's injured shoulder and Natasha gulped nervously as Steve arched his back again and screamed louder than he ever had. Tears were pooling in Steve's eyes and as he squeezed them shut, they spilt and slid down his temples and into his sweaty hair. The man brought down the bat again, to Steve's right thigh. Then again, to Steve's left thigh. And again, to Steve's chest again.

It had reached the point where Natasha had to will the tears in her eyes to go away as she watched an endless stream of blood leave Steve's body and pour onto the floor. The torn and shredded skin hanging in pieces on Steve's chest, the blood covering every section of Steve's skin. but, the man did not stop. His swings only grew more furious, more frequent, until Steve's blood was dripping off the spikes and had splattered against the man's face.

Steve was conscious, but just barely as he struggled weakly, desperate whimpers escaping his lips and being heard clearly in the conference room on the helicarrier. It was wrong, seeing Steve so prone, so vulnerable, so... Weak. He was Captain America and Captain America was not meant to be hurt, ever.

The man threw the bat to the side and wiped his sweaty forehead on his jacket sleeve, that malicious smile never leaving his face.

"Well, that was fun." The man said, looking straight into the camera.

Tony had begun struggling again, fighting against the restraints until his wrists bled and the blood coated his forearms. He no longer looked angry, instead he looked scared and worried. He was muttering one thing over, and although he couldn't be heard, his lips were easily read.

"Oh God. Oh God. Steve... Oh God."

"Now, your super soldier looks like a mess. Look at him, Fury, weak and pathetic." The man said and Fury balled his hands into fists at the mention of his name. The words warranted no reaction from Steve, who appeared to be fighting to stay conscious. "You know what else is a lovely torture device?" The man asked, walking off camera momentarily before returning with brass knuckles on both hands.

"Now, these are fantastic, simplistic brilliance." The man said, holding the brass knuckles in the air so that the camera had a clear view of them. "You punch a man in the ribs and, assuming you have a good swing, the ribs are guaranteed to be broken. In complete honesty, I find utter joy in hearing a man's ribs break under my touch. It's... Empowering." The man said, once again walking closer to Steve.

Natasha listened to his modified voice, trying desperately to find any hint of an accent but, the voice modifier left her clueless. And, she hated it.

By then, Steve had lost consciousness as more blood oozed out of his new wounds. The man knelt above Steve, one leg on either side of Steve's abdomen, and secured the brass knuckles on his hands. Then, without warning, he released a flurry of fast jabs to Steve's chest. Steve regained consciousness and struggled weakly at the restraints on his ankles and wrists but, it was evident that his strength was fading at an alarming rate.

What felt like hours later, the man stood up again, leaving Steve writhing in agony on the floor, his face screwed up in agony. His was hair dripping with sweat and, around the blood and cuts and bruises, he was as pale as death. Bruce knew that he was losing too much blood and was probably going to go into hypovolemic shock soon. Steve was moaning loudly, his muscles tense with the agony. The man threw the brass knuckles to the floor and stood in front of the camera again.

"That's enough for now, I believe. I want him hurt, not dead... Yet. We will return in a few hours." The man said, nodding then walking out the room. A few minutes later, a bound Tony was thrown into the room and he struggled to loosen the binding on his wrists and ankles so he could crawl closer to Steve.

Eventually, they found themselves looking away, not able to bare the horrendous site of their captain covered in blood and bruising, writhing in agony and moaning painfully.

"I can take us there." Bruce said, his hands clenched into fists as he tried to control his rage.

"Good, we leave in an hour." Fury said, his hands shaking slightly as he held them at his sides, from both rage and shock.

"It will take us at least a day to get there." Bruce informed the people staring at him expectantly.

"I don't give a shit. As long as we get there." Clint said, standing up and punching the desk before walking to the window and staring at the sky ahead of him.

"I'm going to murder those sick bastards." Natasha stated, tears brimming in her eyes and her body trembling with the need to wound, to kill.

"I will spare them no mercy." Thor said, his hands clenched tightly into fists.

"Guys." Everyone heard it and, at once, they turned to the screen to find Tony sitting with Steve's head in his lap as Steve tried to curl in on himself but the restraints would not allow him to do so. "Guys, hurry. Steve's not going to make it much longer." Tony begged in a voice so desperate that it shocked the Avengers.

It was then that Steve threw up. His vomit landed on his own chest and blended in with the crimson oozing from his wounds because the vomit consisted of blood... Only blood and bile. Then, the screen went black.

Fury turned to look at the people in front of him and shook his head. "We leave in five minutes. Be ready. We will have Rogers and Stark back by nightfall tomorrow."


	8. Chapter 8

**Hi guys. So this chapter mainly focuses on how Steve and Tony are handling the situation and the plan Bruce and the remaining Avengers are devising to save Steve and Tony. No real action happens in this chapter but I felt it was necessary for the next chater to take place. But, the next chapter will be more action filled, I promise. **

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"You know, Spangles, this is what I'm having difficulty with. You're Captain America. Captain fucking America. You were frozen in ice for, like, five hundred years and you lived." Tony rambled.

"S-Seventy years." Steve corrected, his voice weak and barely audible.

Shortly after Steve's severe beating, one of the many men clad in black walked in and unlocked the chains restraining Steve. Steve had immediately curled in on himself, whimpering like an innocent child as blood oozed out of his wounds and his broken bones jostled with every movement. Tony had managed to lift Steve's head up enough for the super soldier's face to be resting on Tony's thighs instead of in a puddle of his own blood.

Steve was still conscious, which could have been a curse or a blessing, depending on how you wanted to look at it. A blessing because it meant that Steve was still strong enough to fight for his hold on consciousness. A curse because Steve was in agony and unconsciousness would have been welcomed at that point in time.

Every movement, no matter how small, resulted in a pained groan and an agonized expression from Steve accompanied by a wince from Tony who was struggling with the fact that his captain was so weak, so vulnerable, in so much pain.

"Yeah, yeah, seventy, five hundred, same difference, right? Anyway, you have a serum that is supposed to make you practically invincible. But, here you are, bleeding out on my favorite pair of jeans. I find that really depressing." Tony said, laying a comforting hand on Steve's shoulder.

Steve's muscles tensed and he curled in on himself as much as his battered body would allow. His face contorted in agony once again and his left hand flailed about blindly until Tony grabbed a hold of it and squeezed it. Steve squeezed it back tightly as the pain threatened to pull him under again, but he refused to give in to weakness. Pain is temporary. His breathing grew ragged and he start whimpering and groaning as the pain became too much too handle. The pain escalated quickly from there, tears falling freely down his temples and into his bloodied hair.

Tony sat there, watching helplessly as Steve endured a living hell Tony could only imagine. Tony figured it had been two hours since Steve's beating and he was starting to panic about his captain. Steve was paling more and more with each passing minute and his body seemed to be close to being almost drained of any and all blood. Bruising was clearly visible under the blood and it covered almost every inch of Steve's upper body. So, Tony did the only thing he could to help, he rambled. Trying in vain to distract Steve from the pain.

"I got a really good look at the outside of this shitbox." Tony said, wincing silently as Steve's grip on his hand tightened to an almost unbearable level.

"Oh, y-yeah? And what..." Steve trailed off as he screamed in agony, his body trembling profusely, sending reverberations to Tony's body.

"Hey, Cap, stay with me. Open your eyes and look at me." Tony ordered, his voice filled with worry, making it sound almost shaky. But, he refused to break in front of Steve, he needed to be strong. Steve opened his eyes to tiny slits and looked at Tony's eyes only to close them again within seconds as he groaned loudly again, his grip on Tony's hand tightening even further.

"Listen to me, you can do this. You can get through this. Fury is coming, he's going to save us. And don't you worry, Banner and Thor will beat the living shit out of the fucking idiots who did this to you. Just hold on for me, for them. Okay?" Tony begged, his heart hammering in his chest as Steve screamed again, more tears falling down his blood stained cheeks.

"Okay?" Tony repeated when he didn't receive and answer from Steve.

"O-okay." Steve stuttered, coughing violently only to groan and cry out in pain afterwards.

Tony hadn't ignored the aches and pains in his own body. He and Steve had been taken captive about twenty-four hours prior with no food, no water and no medial attention. The starvation was something Tony could deal with but, Steve couldn't. Or, rather, the serum couldn't. His metabolism was four times faster than a normal human's and the lack of food and water was affecting Steve's healing rate. The lack of substance could prove fatal if help didn't come soon.

"T-Tony?" A weak voice distracted Tony from his thoughts and he looked down to find Steve's eyes looking up at him.

It killed Tony, seeing the lines of pain etched on Steve's young face, the way his body was trembling relentlessly, the way Steve was whimpering and groaning involuntarily. And, worst of all, he could do nothing to ease Steve's suffering and that hurt more than anything.

"Yeah?" Tony asked, his voice quiet, comforting in the cold and silent room.

Tony's ribs had begun throbbing painfully and his cheek was hurting a hell of a lot. His abdomen felt bruised and he was generally stiff and fatigued. But, it was nothing compared to what Steve was going through so, he decided not to complain or bring up his own injuries.

"It... It r-really hurts." Steve gasped, squeezing his eyes shut in pain as he rode out another intense wave of agony.

"I know, I know. Just listen to my voice, okay? Try to ignore the pain and concentrate only on what I'm saying." Tony said, his heart clenching painfully as he looked at the young man lying in a pool of his own blood.

Steve was only young. In his twenties, and he had seen too much, experienced too much at such a young age. And, lying with his head on Tony's lap, his tears streaming down his cheeks, made him look too young. Too innocent. Too undeserving of everything he had gone through.

"Now, I know you said we could escape, but since you probably can't stand, I would say that's out of the books. But, I know for a fact that our team is coming to save us." Tony said. Steve tensed, crying out in agony again.

The bat with spikes on it had caused pretty severe damage. The skin on his chest was torn and shredded, definitely in need of surgery, and the skin on his shoulder and abdomen wasn't much better. His thighs were torn too, but not as badly as Steve's upper body. Beneath the blood, Steve's chest was a dark shade of purple, almost a black. Just a glance confirmed that Steve had several broken ribs. His shoulder was bruised dark blue and black and severely misshapen, no doubt still broken badly, if not worse than before the torture. Steve's face was bloodied and bruised, his nose swollen and bruised and oozing blood. A large gash ran along Steve's left cheek and temple. And, to add to Tony's concern, Steve's stomach was rigid, a sign of internal bleeding. the wounds from the whipping hadn't healed in the slightest and that alarmed Tony more than he was willing to admit.

"So, while we wait, I suggest we talk about other useless shit. Like, um... I don't know. What do normal people talk about?" Tony asked, a small smile playing on his lips as Steve's eyes focused on his.

"We... We could talk about... About... Food." Steve said between pants for breath.

"Good idea. When we get home, I'm ordering sushi. You've had sushi before, right?" Tony asked, willing to do anything to distract both himself and Steve from the situation at hand.

"Yeah, I.. I h-had it-" Steve stopped talking suddenly as he tensed and whimpered. His blue eyes squeezed shut again as his body trembled with such force that Tony had to place a hand on the ground to steady them both.

"Hey, Steve, stay with me. What do you want? How about a hamburger?" Tony asked, his voice raising in alarm.

"T-Tony?!" Steve almost begged desperately, his voice so small, so wounded that Tony had to swallow back the emotions threatening to release.

"What's wrong? What's wrong?" Tony asked, his calm exterior beginning to crumble as Steve started gasping for air.

"Make... Make it stop. Please. Please." Steve begged as he shifted uncomfortably on the floor.

"Steve. Hey, Steve?" Tony shouted, panicking as Steve began to go limp in his arms. "Steve, listen to me. Wake the fuck up and stay with me. You cannot fall asleep and that's a fucking order, you got that? Now open your God damn eyes. Right fucking now."

Steve did as he was told and opened his eyes sluggishly. His eyes remained unfocused and hazy as he searched the room frantically until his gaze settled on Tony.

"I swear to God, if you give up I will kill you myself." Tony threatened, hoping that help would be there soon.

He just hoped that help would get there before Robert decided Steve needed another beating because, Tony knew for a fact that Steve wouldn't survive another one. He had hardly even healed from the wounds he received from their last battle against aliens, never mind the wounds from his most recent torture.

* * *

"Okay, I have a plan. I think I will be able to get us inside that hideout in less that ten hours if we go in through this way." Bruce said, pointing to an area on a map.

"Okay, what's the plan?" Clint asked, carefully checking his arrows.

"Here's the plan. We can go straight overhead, assuming the helicarriers are armed and ready to fire, and lower ourselves and the other agents onto the ground." Bruce said, pointing to what appeared to be the entrance to a large concrete building.

"Now, this used to be a bomb shelter during world war 2. It's strong and incredibly difficult to get into. Especially if we have to fight and blast our way through heavy artillery." Bruce continued, looking up at his teammates.

Thor was looking at the map with a frown etched onto his fair features, Natasha was nodding and looking at the spots Bruce was pointing at. She was, no doubt, planning her attack already. Clint was still checking his arrows but he kept glancing at the map, nodding confidently as he understood Bruce. Fury was standing with his arms folded and his eye staring intently at the map, his face emotionless. Coulson was practically hopping around with excitement and adrenaline.

"I'm assuming these men will be armed, considering it is Roberts and his associates, so we have to be prepared. We shoot first, ask later." Bruce said, surprised Fury was giving him free range to devise his own plan.

"Doctor Banner, why are you telling us this plan when you originally told us it would take a day?" Fury asked, looking up and locking gazes with Bruce.

"There's another way we can go in, it's underground and will be less noticeable. But, it could take up to twenty hours to make our way in and get to Steve and Tony. And, we can only go in by foot so the helicarriers will be of no use." Bruce explained.

"I say there's no competition. Going in the front way is obviously the right choice." Natasha shrugged.

"Just a second, agent Romanoff. What deterred you from suggesting this way of attack in the first place?" Fury asked, his voice steely and authoritative.

"Going in with the helicarriers is riskier. Chances are we will have a higher fatality rate and suffer more damage to the helicarriers. Assuming our artillery can counter theirs, it will take eight to ten hours to get there, get in, get Steve and Tony then get out. But, it's dangerous and not advisable. Had we had more time, I would have suggested the back route. That way, we would suffer no damage and a low casualty rate. But, considering Steve and Tony's lives are on the line, I suggest we go the faster way." Bruce explained, never breaking eye contact with Fury.

"I think he's right. Steve didn't look like he could hold on much longer. The faster, the better." Natasha agreed, fiddling carelessly with the firearm in her hand.

"Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. entered into the business knowing full well that their lives were on the line. They were made aware of the fact that they might have to risk their own lives, and they entered being fully informed. So, if human casualties are what we have to risk in order to save Rogers and Stark, then we are just going to have to accept that." Fury said, his voice confident and unwavering.

"How do you even know about this place?" Clint asked, glancing at Bruce briefly.

"Wouldn't you like to know." Bruce teased with a devilish smile.

Clint shot him a playful glare before returning to checking his arrows. Natasha placed the gun in its holster and leaned against the table.

"So, Banner, what's the plan?" Natasha asked, smiling in anticipation of the action and violence sure to come.

"I suggest we get the helicarriers overhead and shoot. The other agents can fight off all outside security whilst we get inside and find Steve and Tony. We can fight off all inside security but, I have a feeling most of them will rush outside to battle the helicarriers and other agents." Bruce suggested.

"Wait, who's we?" Coulson asked, looking expectantly at Bruce. "I want to come. Am I part of the we?"

"But you are only a human." Thor laughed.

"Shut up, Thor." Natasha snapped as she saw Coulson's face take on a hurt and saddened expression. "Yeah, Coulson, you're part of the we."

"So, we to inside and we find Steve and Tony. Then we get back outside and I need one helicarrier ready to hoist us into the air and take us out of the danger zone immediately." Bruce said, making sure Fury was listening to him.

"Are we taking in Stark's suit? We could use it." Clint asked, putting his arrows away.

"Yeah. I made sure I brought it in when we loaded the helicarrier." Natasha replied with a shrug as all eyes settled on her. "What! I figured we could use anything and everything to get Steve and Tony back. Right?"

"I want each of you to be more ready than ever. This is going to be one of the biggest battles we have ever fought. We have a lot more at stake. Now, get suited up, get prepared. There's no room for mistakes, understood?" Fury asked, straightening up and looking at the soldiers in front of him, willing and ready to risk their lives to save two of their own.

"I said, understood?" Fury repeated when he received no answer.

"Understood." They replied as they went to their separate areas to prepare themselves for the fight of their lives.


	9. Chapter 9

**So, this chapter ended up focusing on Natasha. There's no Steve and Tony in this one but it goes into more detail of the actual rescue. The next chapter will go into what Steve and Tony were doing during the events of this chapter. **

******Enjoy and thanks for reading. Any reviewers, followers or 'favoriters', thanks so much. You guys are amazing. **

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"Okay, on three I want everyone to grab the ropes and descend to the ground. No matter what, Natasha, make sure you get into the building. That way, if the rest of us get held up or injured-" Bruce began,making sure he was staring Natasha in the eyes. If anyone could get through and save Steve and Tony, it was Natasha. Not only was she incredibly skilled but she also had emotion fueling her actions. Her desperate need to get Steve and Tony back would help her fight harder, be better, do better.

"You won't. You won't get injured." Natasha interrupted, the mere thought of losing anyone from her team making her jumpy and unsettled.

"But if we do, we need a plan. We will try to get inside, all of us, but, if we see that Natasha is in danger and we know we won't be able to make it inside, we save her, allow her to get to that door. Natasha, you get inside and find Steve and Tony. Use the comm to get hold of us when you do and we will get the helicarrier in reach, hopefully all the enemy soldiers will be sorted by then. You bring them out and load them onto the helicarrier." Bruce continued as he watched Clint put his arrows in their sheath and Natasha fiddled mindlessly with the dagger in her hand.

Natasha nodded and gulped nervously. She loved the adrenaline, the pure rush of battle. Once she got into the battle, time froze and everything from the outside world no longer mattered. All that existed in that moment were the men facing her and the tactics she was going to use to fight her way to victory. A simple kick or a swift punch seemed to calm her, she was in her element and nothing, nothing, could distract her. Once she was in, she was in until it was finished.

But, now, standing on the helicarrier, preparing to lower herself to the ground and begin the fight that could save Steve and Tony's lives, she wasn't excited. She wasn't calm, she was nervous and, no matter what she did, she couldn't slow down her heartbeat. She tried to calm herself down but the image of Steve lying on the ground, whimpering and bleeding had frightened her in a way she never knew possible. She wasn't looking forward to the fight, to the adrenaline, instead she was dreading it. Entering the fight meant she would find Steve and Tony, and that meant she would know whether or not Steve had survived. At the moment, she could hope, wish, believe, that Steve was alive, but coming face-to-face with the bloodied mess on the screen would either confirm or deny her hopes. And, that was something she wasn't willing or ready to accept.

"We'll all make it through. I know it." Coulsin said, speaking for the first time in eight hours. Natasha locked gazes with him and he smiled at her. It was an unsure and slightly doubtful smile, but that smile and those few words were all Natasha needed to give herself a boost. That small bit of support, no matter how unsure, was all it took for Natasha to feel the excitement come back. The feel of adrenaline beginning to course through her veins and make her feel weightless, invincible.

"On three. One, two... Three." Bruce said and, with that, the floor from beneath them opened and they grabbed onto the ropes, quickly and efficiently lowering themselves to to ground. Thor flew into he air, mjölnir at the ready whilst Bruce turned into Hulk immediately, not wasting any time in attacking the enemies. Natasha watched as other SHIELD agents lowered themselves to the ground, one or two falling as they were hit with bullets. Whether it was the gunshot wound or the impact of the fall that killed them, Natasha knew they were now two men down.

One glance around the area assured Natasha that they were incredibly unprepared for the battle they were about to face. Up to a hundred men were guarding a large square concrete building in the centre of brick walling, separating the building from the barren outside. There were five tanks, ten bazookas and every man was armed with a machine gun. But, with Hulk and Thor on her team, Natasha knew they had pretty much nothing to worry about. They had fought off hundreds of Chitauri and escaped with only minor wounds. The difference is, this time they had no help from Steve or Tony. This time, they were two vital members short and that could prove to be fatal.

Without warning, gunshots filled the air. Natasha felt the ground beneath her shake as one of the engines on the helicarrier exploded in a fiery ball, making the helicarrier tilt to the side slightly but it managed to stay in the air. Natasha could see Hulk flipping a tank over, then using that tank to crush another tank. Thor hand managed to take down three bazookas with mjölnir, but was now almost overpowered as ten men zoned in on him, guns at the ready. Coulson and Fury were nowhere in sight but Natasha knew they were doing okay, otherwise she would have heard about it over the comm... She hoped. Clint was shooting arrows with explosive tips, effectively taking out one tank and a bazooka, the blasts from the explosions setting a path of destruction ten meters wide.

A bullet whizzed past Natasha's shoulder and she turned around just in time to see a man with a gun nearing her. He was tall and sturdy but his movements were uncoordinated and Natasha could use that to her advantage. With one quick movement, she kicked the gun out of the man's hand and jumped onto his back, her legs twisting around his neck. One tug and she felt his neck snap and she jumped off as he fell to the ground bonelessly. She ran closer to the steel door leading into the concrete building, it was guarded by two men in black. Each over six foot and built like a truck. Bullets whizzed over her head and she heard sounds of explosions and groans around her.

Something grazed her arm and she hissed as she looked down and saw a long, thick graze on her right arm. It was bleeding but it wasn't serious. She turned to face the direction from which the bullet came and spotted a young man in black uniform staring at her, his gun at the ready. He shot again but Natasha dodged the bullet skillfully. She pulled the dagger out of its holster and threw it at him. The knife embedded itself between his eyes and the man stood motionless for a second before falling to the ground. Natasha retrieved the knife and neared the door again, skillfully dodging bullets and shrapnel.

As she was about to reach the door, she heard the sound of an explosion and felt the ground beneath her feet shake again. Out of the corner of her eye she saw red and yellow engulfing the air to her right. She put the pieces of the puzzle together just in time to realize that someone had fired a bazooka. And, this time, the bazooka was heading her way. There was no way she could dodge it, not when it was traveling that fast and it was so close to her, so she simply prepared herself for the impact. The impact that never came.

She heard a pained groan and felt a body landing on top of her, pushing her to the ground as fire and shrapnel rained down on them. She opened her eyes warily, careful of any falling shrapnel, and gasped as she looked at the person who had saved her. Thor lay on top of her, his body armor scorched and dented, with mjölnir laying in his limp hand. His face lay beside hers, his eyes closed and blood dripping down from his left eyebrow and falling to the ground. His breathing was slow and steady, which meant his heart rate was healthy, he was just unconscious.

"Fury, arrange to have Thor airlifted into the helicarrier, he's hurt." Natasha said into the comm, pulling herself out from underneath him, spotting a downer soldier in the distance, the one who had fired the bazooka at her. Thor had a burn along his right bicep that looked painful, but other than that he looked okay. Natasha waited until SHIELD agents came to Thor's rescue, and she whispered a 'thank you' in his ear, gently kissing his cheek.

Then, she turned and ran towards the steel door, this time reaching it and snapping the necks of the guards without a hitch. Using the gun she had taken from one of the fallen guards, she shot open the lock on the steel door. After five shots, the door swung open and Natasha glanced around before walking inside to make sure no one was watching her.

A quick glance allowed Natasha to see that no one was paying attention to what she was doing, they were all too enthralled with protecting themselves. Thor had been taken up to a helicarrier and was nowhere in sight, Fury was making light work of fighting off four men using two handguns and common sense his opponents seemed to be lacking. Coulson was hiding behind a fallen tank, furiously shooting at a group of five men nearing him, each one falling down one after the other. Hulk, as expected, was running straight towards the last remaining tank, the bullets hitting him causing no damage as he roared and knocked people off the ground and out of his path. Clint was preoccupied with three men with guns, aiming at him from a close range as he quickly and efficiently pulled arrows out of their sheath and took the men out one at a time.

Natasha gently swung the door open just enough so she could squeeze in before closing the door behind her. They had had a plan. Six of them were going to go inside the building and retrieve Steve and Tony together, but now it was just Natasha. She was the only one who had to save Steve and Tony, she had to protect herself and save them, by herself. She was out of her element. She didn't know where Steve and Tony were, she wasn't sure how to find them, she didn't know if there would be guards she would have to fight off or not. She was basically going in blind. Usually she had more or less of an idea of what she was going up against, but not this time. Although, she just couldn't let that hold her back. She couldn't allow anything to distract her.

She quietly tiptoed along the passage. It was lined with steel netting, probably for extra security in case of a cave in, and was dimly lit by lights every few feet. There was a steel door at the end of the doorway and Natasha used two bullets to break away the lock and gently ease the door open. The door creaked as she pushed it and the sound filled the halls. Beyond the door were stairs leading into an underground passageway identical to the one Natasha had just been in. There was a door to the left of the passageway and Natasha noticed it was open, a crack allowing a thin stream of light to filter through into the passage. Checking once more to see if she was followed, she opened the door further and walked in. Up to that point, it had been relatively easy getting into the basement, but the ease quickly disappeared as Natasha laid eyes on a group of eight guards at the end of the passageway. They were guarding a door.

Natasha's heart rate was fast, too fast, and it thudded against her chest. It was the only thing she could hear as time stood still. She watched as the guards raised their guns, seemingly in slow motion. She emptied out her gun before the guards had even lifted theirs, easily downing three of the guards. Without hesitation, she ran back behind the door, using it as cover as bullets rained down on her. Once she heard the familiar clicks of empty chambers, Natasha came out from her hiding spot and threw two daggers, each one hitting its target. The daggers imbedded themselves between the men's eyes and they fell to the floor bonelessly. Her aim had always been impeccable. She hid behind the door again as the guards unloaded their newly filled chambers and started shooting at the door again.

Time stood still once more as she conjured up a plan. She had no weapons and no advantage over the men but, she refused to just sit down and give up. Some way, some how, she would get past those three guards and find her friends, no matter the cost. She steadied her breathing and, at the click of empty chambers, ran out from her hiding spot and, with one fluent motion, she snapped one of the men's necks before he even had time to reload his weapon. Pulling the dagger out of one of the men's head, she used it to slit another man's throat and watched as he fell to the floor in a heap. One man remained standing, with a fully loaded gun. He shot the gun at Natasha, just nicking her leg enough to draw blood but not enough to need stitches. His hand was shaking and it was affecting his aim terribly. Using his nervousness against him, she disarmed him of his gun by kicking it out of his hand. She caught it in the air and emptied one bullet, hitting him in the temple. He fell to the floor in a puddle of his own blood as well as the others' blood.

Then, she heard a gunshot from somewhere below her feet, from a lower floor, followed by the sound of agonized screams. She shot another round at the door, unlocking it. She pushed the door open warily, expecting to find another mob of men in the new passageway. Instead, she found stairs leading into another passageway. The lighting was so bright, it could have been described as painful to look at but, Natasha ignored it as she hopped down the stairs, two at a time, gun at the ready. She spotted two men slowly but surely making their way towards her.

One was holding a gun in one hand and seemed to be walking steadily as he supported the weight of the taller man. The taller man was leaning heavily on the other, dragging his feet behind him and whimpering in pain. He clung desperately onto the shorter man as if he was his only lifeline and every now and then, his legs would give way beneath him and the shorter man had to hold him up. She almost fired her gun when she spotted two figures making their way towards her, but she dropped the gun by her side as the faces came into light. Unable to suppress a gasp, she took a step closer.

"Steve? Tony?"


	10. Chapter 10

**I would just like to say that I am extremely humbled by the reviews and support I've been getting! The reviews on the last chapter were really fantastic and I'm so appreciative for those of you who took the time to tell me what you thought of the story! So, thank you very, very much.**

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It's not always something that people notice but noise constantly surrounds us. In the city, the sound of car engines and the buzzing of electricity fill the air, creating a dull noise we often learn to ignore or push to the back of our minds. In the country, the sound of dogs barking or owls cooing and the rustle of the leaves in the wind are a constant background noise, once again dulled until the point of being almost unnoticeable.

Tony had never realized that he had never truly heard silence before. There was always something in the background, whether it be JARVIS or the television or even idle conversation amongst friends, there was always a noise. But, now, sitting in a concrete prison cell with a barely conscious Captain America held against his chest, Tony realized just how much he missed the constant buzz of city life. There was no sound in the small concrete room, none other than Steve's occasional gasps for air or whimpers. And even those sounds were barely audible and incredibly irregular, breaking the silence only every few minutes. Tony had talked and talked for almost ten hours but even he had grown tired of his own voice.

Steve had stopped trying to participate in the conversation hours ago, leaving Tony rambling by himself, doing everything and anything to keep Steve conscious. The blood was everywhere and Tony had to stop himself from gagging as he looked down at it, pooling under Steve's trembling body. The bleeding had slowed slightly, but not enough to calm Tony's nerves, Steve was still bleeding too much. Tony knew they had to get out of there soon if Steve had any chance of survival. Every human has their limits, even super soldiers, and Steve's limits were almost reached. They didn't have time to wait for help.

"T-Tony?" The small voice distracted Tony from his thoughts and he looked down in surprise. Steve had opened his eyes to slits and was looking up at Tony, his face contorted in pain but starting to loosen slightly. That was bad, it meant Steve was fading. As the pain lessened, so did Steve, his grip on consciousness slipping away and his body starting to shut down. Steve somehow managed to shift himself slightly in order to look up at Tony, a pained gasp accompanied the small movement.

"What's wrong, Steve?" Tony asked, gulping nervously as the blood on his jeans came into view when Steve moved. He looked back up at Steve and had to remind himself not to freak out, to remain calm for Steve's sake. Ignore the graying pallor of Steve's face, ignore the collection of sweat pressing his hair down against his face and head and neck, ignore the blood covering almost every inch of Steve's body, turning the blue of his torn pants into purple.

"W-we need to... To get out of here." Steve said, panting for breath between broken words. Tony nodded and glanced at the steel door to his left, wondering how the hell they were going to break through that. He looked back at Steve and saw the most encouraging thing he had seen for a while. The spark was back in Steve's eyes. The determination, the ferocity was back and Tony knew that some way, some how, they were going to get out of there.

"You read my mind, Cap." Tony said. Steve managed to prop himself onto his left elbow, his right arm dangling on the floor uselessly. That gave Tony the space to scoot a bit further away from Steve and stand up. As he stood up, he almost toppled over as a tingling ran down his previously numb legs. Holding onto the wall for support, he managed to stay standing until the tingling feeling disappeared and his legs were steady underneath him, if not for the occasional tremble due to fatigue and starvation.

Steve fell back down from his position on his elbows, screaming in pain as his torn back hit the concrete flooring hard. Tony knelt down beside Steve, cupping Steve's face in his hands as the soldier began gasping desperately for air, his lips turning a light shade of blue. Tony gently rubbed a tear off Steve's cheek and lifted his head up slightly so that they were looking into each other's eyes. "You need to stand up, Cap. Okay? You want to get out of here, you have to stand up. Can you do it?" Tony asked, glancing at Steve's marred chest, bleeding and inflamed and bruised but still moving up and down fairly rhythmically as Steve's harsh breathing began to steady.

"Y-yeah." Steve replied, opening his eyes despite the almost overwhelming need to close them, to drift off into the welcoming unconsciousness beckoning him, promising to take away the agony. He couldn't give in to the need, he needed to ignore it and push further. He couldn't give up, he was Captain America and Captain America never gave up.

Tony pulled Steve's left arm over his shoulders and looped his hands around Steve's waist, careful to mind Steve's numerous injuries. He found it difficult to get a grip on Steve's bloodied skin but, with a pained scream and a lot of effort, they somehow managed to get Steve to his feet. Steve leaned on Tony, unable to bear most of his weight as fresh blood pulsed from his newly opened wounds. Steve buried his face in Tony's neck, choking on a sob as tears fell freely down his face, creating paths in the dried blood on his cheeks. "Come on." Tony said, starting toward the door.

Steve's legs failed on the first step and, had Tony not been holding him tightly, he would have fallen flat on his face. Tony pulled Steve back up, grunting with the exertion of holding up Steve's body weight. Steve had a few inches and more than a few pounds on him. And, to make matters worse, Tony's own injuries strongly protested each movement Tony made but, he had to ignore it. For Steve's sake and for his own sake, he had to ignore the pain. He thought of Pepper and what she would do if he never made it home, then he thought of the Avengers and how they would handle his death. Those thoughts were enough to push him that little bit further, make him that tiny bit more determined and he continued toward the door, practically holding Steve up as Steve's feet dragged almost uselessly behind him.

Suddenly, the door opened and, if only for a split second, Tony thought that maybe, just maybe, help had arrived. Maybe they were safe. All hopes were crushed as the person who had opened the door walked into the room. Roberts stood in the doorway, a gun in his trembling right hand and sweat streaking his face. His face was red and he was out of breath, clearly in a panic. Although, Tony didn't know why. Outside, the guards that protected the doorway stood facing the room, guns held tightly in their hands, the safeties released.

"Shit." Tony mumbled and he was sure he heard Steve curse under his breath. Robert took a step closer to them, the gun pointed at Tony's chest. Tony could see the fear and panic in Roberts' eyes and wondered what the hell had gotten him so flustered, so worried.

"Your friends came to rescue you but, you didn't think I'd just let you go, did you? Boss said to kill you, to forget about the test of endurance." Roberts said, an evil smile tugging at the corners of his thin, pink lips. He was jumpy, all composure from his earlier run-ins with Tony having faded into nothingness, leaving behind an almost laughable, nervous mess of a man. Tony couldn't help the smirk that pulled at his lips and he didn't bother hiding it. He almost laughed at the sight in front of him. Their captor, the one who had acted so strong, so superior, was now just a blithering embarrassment in front of them, trembling so terribly that the gun almost clattered to the ground.

But, Tony's enjoyment in the matter soon faded as he felt Steve slip from his grasp. He turned to the side, half expecting to hear a thump and see Steve sprawled across the ground. Instead, he found Steve running towards Roberts and, before he even had time to react, Steve's shoulder had connected with Roberts' stomach, lifting him off his feet. Roberts tried to shoot Steve but the impact of falling on to the floor winded him and he dropped the gun. Tony grabbed at it and, without hesitation, shot the two guards outside the door before they had chance to lift their own guns.

On the floor, Roberts and Steve were struggling but, Steve was too weak to keep it up and one well aimed punch from Roberts sent him sprawling across the floor, groaning and curling into himself as the trembling worsened. Roberts searched the floor frantically for his gun until his eyes met Tony's. Tony took a step closer, the gun steady and light in his hand and aimed directly at Roberts' chest. Roberts nodded, accepting that he was outnumbered and couldn't win. He stood to his feet slowly, not daring to tear his gaze from Tony's. Tony was smiling devilishly, knowing that he could finally exact revenge on the son of a bitch who had almost killed Steve, reduced him to tears and whimpers.

"Fuck you, asshole." Tony said, firing the gun twice. One bullet entered Roberts' right knee, exiting through the back of the knee and leaving a splatter of blood on the floor and wall. Roberts fell to the floor, cradling his knee in his hands and gasping loudly, his face twisted into a pained grimace. The second shot hit his left knee, lodging within the bone and shattering his patella. Roberts screamed in agony as the color drained from his sweaty face. Within seconds, he had lost consciousness.

Tony held the gun tightly in his hand, expecting more guards to come. He wanted to be prepared if they were to be attacked. Steve would be, as harsh as it was to say, useless in a fight and Tony couldn't rely on him for protection. As badly wounded as Steve was, Tony was surprised he had even managed to stay conscious. Hell, he was surprised Steve was still breathing. And Steve had gained Tony's respect, all of it. Steve had fought so hard to get that far, he pushed past the pain and put himself in further danger in order to save Tony's life, now, it was Tony's turn. He would get Steve to safety, even if he died doing it.

Steve was such a selfless person. He was willing to risk his own life to save people he hardly knew. He never thought of himself first. After the Chitauri incident, he had waited until the entire team had received medical attention before he even thought of getting his wound checked. His wound had been serious, one of the worst, and Tony didn't doubt that it hurt like a bitch, but Steve hadn't complained. He had insisted on getting help for his team first, a team that was barely even able to work together at that point.

Steve was strong. He had been frozen in ice for seventy years, presumed dead but found alive. He had woken up in a new millennium with new technology he knew nothing about and new ways of life he wasn't aware of. Most people from his past were dead, any reminders from his childhood and his life in the forties were gone. He had woken up with nothing but he had managed to accomplish everything in spite of that. He didn't speak about his life before the crash, not often, but Tony knew it was hard for Steve to be taken out of his comfort zone and forced to adapt to a completely different life. And, sure, Tony wound Steve up about it and teased him playfully but, truth be told, he felt sort of sorry for Steve. Not that he would say it out loud, ever.

"Cap, hey, Cap. You still with me?" Tony asked, kneeling beside Steve. Steve lay on the floor, as curled in on himself as possible, whimpering and gasping for breath. He nodded weakly but made no move to get up. "Come on, Cap. We need to go, now." Tony said, urgency clear in his voice as he forced Steve's left arm over his shoulder. Steve didn't cry out or moan this time when he was lifted to his feet, but he bit his lower lip so hard that he drew blood and he allowed tears to fall from his tightly shut eyes.

"Cap, I need you to walk, okay? I can't carry you." Tony said, quickly glancing out the door, pleased to find that no one was coming. He heard a moan from the floor and looked down at Roberts who was regaining consciousness. Tony and Steve stumbled out the concrete prison and Tony locked the door behind them, preventing Roberts from escaping. He never let go of the gun, too afraid that a group of men would turn the corner at any second. Steve's left hand was gripping onto Tony's shirt like it was his only lifeline.

They slowly made their way around the corner, Steve's legs buckling more than once, but Tony's sheer determination to find help allowed him to keep Steve from falling to the ground. Tony didn't want to talk, he didn't want any incoming enemies to be aware that they were there. He needed the element of surprise if he wanted to make it through them. So, Tony kept quiet, breathing through his mouth quietly. Steve tried to stay quiet but his breathing was so labored, such a struggle to draw breath into his lungs, that it would give their cover away immediately. But, Steve was trying his hardest and it was sure as hell a lot harder than anyone else Tony knew, including himself, so he said nothing of Steve's heavy breathing.

They went through numerous doors, each one leading into almost identical passageways. They encountered two more guards, both caught so off guard by the unexpected meeting with the two captives that they didn't react fast enough to protect themselves from the bullets that tore through their chests. Adrenaline pumped through Tony's veins, dulling the pain, dissipating the fatigue, enhancing his reflexes. He was ready for anything.

They went through one last door and they saw a small figure slowly making its way toward them. Steve was hanging onto consciousness by a thread by then, whimpering, his muscles tensing with each agonizing step and his breath coming in labored gasps. The figure dropped it's gun to its side and Tony raised his gun, ready to shoot any threat. Steve coughed painfully and Tony had to tighten his grip n Steve as he felt the bloodied body slowly slipping out of his grasp, the coughing wracking his body with awful tremors.

"Steve? Tony?" The figure asked. It was a woman. As the figure came into light, Tony squinted his eyes and he breathed a sigh of relief as he recognized the red hair and black suit. Natasha. Help was there, at last. He managed a laugh as he felt a weight being lifted off his shoulders. Help was there.

Help was there.

"Shit! Steve." Natasha gasped, running toward them quickly. Her green eyes raked over Steve's body and Tony swore he could see tears welling in them. She had blood on her face but a quick glance assured Tony that it wasn't hers. The blood on her arm was hers, as was the blood on her leg but, it didn't look serious and she didn't seem to be complaining. Steve had started wheezing and his eyelids were drooping as he sagged in Tony's arm.

Natasha grabbed his other arm to pull over her shoulders but the movement was met with a gut wrenching scream and Steve's eyes filled with new tears. Natasha dropped his arm like it was on fire, her eyes wide in shock. His shoulder was broken and moving it was painful, but Natasha needed to give him support somehow and she didn't see any other possible way of doing so, so she grabbed his arm again and pulled it over her shoulders as fast as possible.

"Thank God you're here. It's about time." Tony stated, quickly wiping the blood off his right hand and on to his jeans before placing it back around Steve's waist. He allowed Natasha to lead the way out the concrete building. He didn't flinch as he walked past the heap of dead bodies piled outside one of the doors and he didn't gag when saw the blood pooling beneath them. Steve was fading fast and they needed help as soon as possible. He wasn't even lifting his feet anymore, allowing Natasha and Tony to drag him through the multiple passageways.

"Fury, get a helicarrier, we have Rogers." Natasha said into her comm, glancing sideways at Steve and then glancing at Tony, briefly sharing a moment of concern for their fading captain.

"Hurry, Romanoff. We want to get out of here ASAP. Thor needs medical attention, too." Came the reply over the comm and Tony almost cried at hearing the familiar sound of Fury's voice. It was familiar and it was comforting to know that they were only feet away from help.

"You hear that, Spangles? Help is here." Tony whispered in Steve's ear, a broad smile on his face as he saw Steve open his eyes briefly to look at Tony.

Eventually, they walked out the last door and outside the terrible concrete building that had kept them prisoner for so long. There were crushed tanks, torn apart bazookas, dead bodies and shrapnel everywhere, covering almost every inch of the ground. No dead SHIELD agents were on the ground, having already been lifted into a helicarrier to be transported home. In the centre of destruction stood Clint, Coulson, Fury and Bruce, still slightly green.

At seeing the comforting sight of rescue, Tony felt his knees go weak as the day's events finally took their toll on his injured and fatigued body, the adrenaline crash coming fast and hard. A pair of unseen hands caught him before he sunk to the ground and he watched as medics took Steve from Natasha, immediately surrounding him and screaming things out to each other as they walked onto the helicarrier. Tony was vaguely aware of being lifted onto a gurney before he closed his eyes, just meaning to take a moment's rest, but ending up accepting the unconsciousness that welcomed him.

"Welcome back, Stark. You did good." Were the last words he heard before it all faded into nothingness.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hi guys. Once again, the response on the last chapter was mind blowing! Thank you so much for the reviews, they really are so kind and supportive and humbling. Thank you to anyone who reviews, favorites or follows. **

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Natasha watched as medics whisked Tony away, strapping him to a backboard and immediately inserting multiple IVs and drips. Once Tony was safely on the helicarrier, Natasha looked around until she found the medics tending to Steve. Steve was still conscious, which in itself was astonishing. But, Natasha hoped he would lose consciousness so he could finally escape the pain and suffering, even if only for a little while.

Medics were surrounding him which made it impossible to get a look at him, but his whimpers and screams of agony sliced through the air, making Natasha wince sympathetically. She started running, her feet moving on their own accord, trying to get to Steve, trying to let him know that he wasn't alone, that someone was there for him. "Steve!" She yelled frantically, pushing past S.H.I.E.L.D agents and ignoring the people calling for her to stop.

When she reached Steve, she almost gasped, but she had enough common sense to stop herself. If she reacted like that, she would just scare him more, and he looked scared enough already. The medics were poking and prodding him, yelling things out to each other. Broken bone upon broken bone was announced, laceration upon laceration inspected, internal injury upon internal injury explained.

Steve lay beneath the medics, in between the flurry of activity, hearing them but not quite comprehending. As they moved him about, checking for any more injuries, Steve choked on a sob. His eyes were squeezed shut and he was panting, whimpering as his body trembled uncontrollably. Natasha ignored what the medics were saying, the things directed at her and the things directed at each other. She didn't care about them or what they were doing. All she cared about was Steve, looking so lost, so confused, so wounded.

"Steve, I'm here. Steve, open your eyes and look at me." Natasha begged. She refused to let Steve die for the second time in forty-eight hours. She needed to let him know that he needed to keep fighting. She needed to let him know that she was there for him and that she, as well as the other Avengers, needed him. She needed him to open his eyes and see her, as much for her own comfort as for his.

Steve opened his eyes, tears pooling in the corners and threatening to spill as he searched desperately for Natasha. She grabbed his hand, her heart breaking as she watched Steve choke on another sob. She felt tears gather in her eyes and she blinked them away, unwilling to allow anyone to notice how vulnerable she was. "Steve, I'm here. I'm here." Natasha repeated. She smiled when his gaze finally rested on her, but the smile quickly faded as he yelled in agony when one of the medics roughly lifted up his right arm.

"Watch what you're doing!" Natasha screamed, crawling closer to Steve and holding his hand to her chest, using her free hand to wipe away the tears. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Steve was supposed to be invincible, indestructible. But, here he was, bleeding and dying on the ground, his blood painting the backboard red. Natasha was supposed to be relieved. She had found Steve and Tony, she had got them out of there. They were safe now, she didn't need to worry anymore. But, for some reason, the relief she was supposed to feel, the happiness and pride that usually accompanied victory, wasn't there. Because, Steve and Tony weren't safe. Tony had collapsed and Steve had barely been upright in the first place. Steve was hanging onto life by a thread, barely there, barely alive. And it was killing Natasha.

"Steve, look at me. Don't listen to anyone else. Just look at me. I'm not leaving you." Natasha said quietly so only Steve could hear her whispered words of comfort. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips when Steve's face relaxed slightly at hearing the words. His grip on her hand was weak and shaky, but his fingers were still curled around hers, not daring to let go. She gently rubbed his cheek, carefully avoiding a large gash just below his eye, and she looked into his eyes, silently willing him to stay awake.

Then, unseen hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her away from Steve. She kicked and wriggled, not daring to let go of Steve's hand or cheek as she was lifted up and pulled away. "Let go of me!" She yelled frantically, twisting in the vehement grip on her waist. She tightened her grip on Steve's hand.

Steve's eyes widened and his weak grip on Natasha's hand tightened slightly as he stared after her. "No... No, please." He begged, his face contorting in both agony and fear as Natasha was pulled further and further away from him. His voice was so weak, so pained, that Natasha had to will the tears in her eyes to go away. It was heartbreaking seeing Captain America broken on the ground in front of her, begging her to stay, whimpering and crying. "Stay... please." Steve begged.

Slowly, her hand was pulled off of his and she struggled to get loose from the grip on her waist, clawing at the arms and twisting around. "Steve!" She called, biting her lip in worry and frustration as she saw Steve grab blindly for her, his mouth opening to call her name, but all that came out was a pained groan. "Let go!" She begged, this time losing some of the conviction her voice once held as her emotions threatened to overflow. She tried to break free of the grip, her gaze permanently fixed on Steve as he stared after her, his brows furrowing together and his mouth twisting into a grimace.

His hand fell to his side limply as his eyelids fluttered, eventually closing. The medics lifted Steve onto a gurney and wheeled him to the helicarrier, as Natasha continued to struggle. The medics kept prodding and poking Steve, shouting their findings to each other, adding to his already unbelievably long list of injuries. The medics surrounding Tony had seemed less worried, less anxious, walking beside the gurney, prodding and poking still, but less frantically.

Natasha turned on her heels, breaking out of the grip on her waist. Her eyes met Fury's one eye and she had to restrain herself from shoving him in frustration. Everyone has feelings, and trained assassin or not, everyone has a point where they can't hide them anymore. Natasha had almost reached that point. "Nick, I need to be with Steve. I need to go with him." Natasha half begged, half sobbed, glancing at the helicarrier.

"Agent Romanoff, there's something I need you to see first." Fury said, his gaze unwavering and confident as Clint joined them. Clint was bleeding from a long gash along his ribcage, but the wound didn't look serious. A few stitches and a gauze pad and the wound would be good as new.

Natasha looked at Clint, searching for some sort of hint as to what to do. Clint nodded and said, "Nat, you need to see this." Natasha looked back at Fury before nodding. Clint was looking at her sympathetically as she straightened herself out, composing herself from her struggle against Fury as she clung desperately onto Steve. Hearing the way Clint had told her that she needed to see something, so certainly, so convincingly, so understandingly, had made her decision easy. Whatever it was that she needed to see, she would see it then return to Steve immediately. She could leave him alone for a few minutes, by the sounds of it, she needed to.

Fury took a step back, joining Coulson in a hushed conversation about casualties and survivors. All remaining enemies were being loaded onto the helicarrier, handcuffed and escorted by at least one S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Natasha followed Clint into the building, mindlessly staring at the blood drops on the floor that marked the path she, Tony and Steve had taken. Clint was quiet, uncharacteristically so, not saying a word.

"What do I need to see, Clint?" Natasha asked, trusting him to tell her the truth. She had known him for the longest, been through the most with him. She had saved his life, and he had saved hers. In the early years of their 'partnership' Clint had been shot in the stomach, taking a bullet that had been meant to kill Natasha, and Natasha had chosen to stay and save his life, putting her own life at risk to do so. Since then, their trust for each other had been unbreakable. Even during the Chitauri incident, Natasha had never lost her faith or trust in him.

"Nat... Just, you'll see." Clint replied hesitantly as they walked past the point where Natasha had first seen Steve and Tony. She remembered the feeling of her heart dropping as she took in the sight of blood, the sight of Steve clinging desperately onto Tony, as though he would collapse if he didn't. She shook the memory out of her head, not wanting to remember it. Wanting to forget it, but knowing she never truly would.

They kept walking until they neared a closed door, two guards were outside, lying dead on the floor and bleeding from gunshot wounds to the head. Clint pushed the door open. Two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were inside, crouched on their knees, a paramedic between them. Clint gestured for them to leave and they did, politely squeezing past Natasha. Natasha followed Clint into the room, a frown etched onto her face, confused as to what had been so important.

Her questions were answered when she looked to her right and found a man on the floor, his face pinched in pain, sweat beading on his forehead, blood pooling beneath his knees. Natasha knew who he was instantly. The dark skin, the bald head, the muscles practically bulging out of his black clothing. It was Roberts. She took a step back and looked around the room. Brownish-grey concrete surrounded her, covering the walls and floors. Cameras were in all four corners of the room, all pointing toward the centre of the room. Her gaze travelled down to the centre of the floor, her eyes widening as she saw the drying puddle of blood smeared across the floor. Blood coated the walls, drops of blood splattered across the ceiling, chains hung from the ceiling and from the walls.

It was _the_ room, and Roberts was _the_ man. She looked at Clint and grabbed his forearm in her hand, turning him to face her. "Is this him?" Natasha asked, not needing to elaborate.

Clint nodded and said, "We think so." Natasha felt indescribable hatred, anger, fury, boil up inside of her. Starting from her very core and spreading to the tips of her fingers, almost blinding her as she felt herself tense. In front of her was the man who had reduced a super soldier to tears and caused Ironman to collapse. In front of her was a man that had made her realize exactly what hatred and fury was. In front of her was the only man that she wanted to rip apart limb by limb, and, given half the chance, she would.

He was looking up at her, his eyes wide in fear as he scurried backwards until his back hit the wall. Suddenly, she lost all control of herself and her feet guided her to the man. She saw red as she picked the man up by his collar, smirking as he let out a pained yelp, the action clearly jostling his wounds. Adrenaline and determination fueled her and she managed to push the man against the wall, holding him up despite the fact that he had at least one hundred pounds and a foot on her.

"Are you Roberts?" She asked calmly, feeling her heartbeat slow down as she prepared for the violence sure to take place. She would beat him to a pulp, until he was unrecognizable, until he was unconscious, then she would wake him up and do it all over again. He nodded, not saying a word, the only sound that filled the room being his heavy breathing. Clint stood back, allowing Natasha to let out the anger and panic that he had noticed boiling up inside of her since Steve and Tony had first been taken captive.

"You did that to Rogers and Stark?" Natasha asked, still staying calm as she felt her hands steady and her mind clear. He didn't reply and she let him drop to the floor, not wasting a second before she was on top of him, her hands around his neck as she slammed his head against the ground. He groaned in pain but managed to nod when Natasha repeated the question. She smiled, looking forward to putting him through the same hell he had put Tony and Steve through.

"Why?" Natasha asked, pushing the soles of her feet into the bullet wounds in his knees. He screamed, his face going red and the veins in his neck bulging as he writhed in agony underneath her, attempting to break free, but he was too weak and Natasha was too determined to keep him down. "Why, you sick son of a bitch?" Natasha screamed, her fist connecting solidly with his jaw, jerking his head to the side.

"Fuck you." Roberts said, smiling and exposing his bloodied teeth, spitting blood to the ground beside him. Natasha was indescribably furious. The son of a bitch thought he was being clever, thought he could get the last word, thought he was still in power. She planned on showing him otherwise. She pushed her heels into his knees again, almost laughing as he cried out again, hot tears pouring down his temples and onto the ground. Another punch to the jaw sent a tooth flying and had him reeling.

"Why? Answer me or I will rip your little friend off, and I'm sure you don't want that. Apparently men are pretty fond of those." Natasha threatened, her right hand trailing down to his manhood, gently grasping it. He shook his head again and he had the audacity to laugh. Natasha squeezed as hard as she could and Roberts almost flung her off as his body convulsed in agony. She let go and repeated, "Tell me why you tortured Rogers and Stark."

"It was my job." Roberts explained, smiling as the pain lancing up his body and settling in his lower stomach lessened. Natasha squeezed again and twisted whilst her other hand tightened on his neck. He floundered beneath her, his hands weakly trying to push her away. He was crying and screaming but it wasn't enough. This time, Natasha didn't let go before asking her next question.

"Who told you to do it?" Natasha asked, digging her heels even harder into his knees. She smirked when he screamed again, enjoying seeing him in so much pain. She almost laughed in satisfaction as she watched his face redden again. He didn't reply and she twisted her hand around his manhood even further, warranting a gut wrenching scream accompanied by pathetic whimpers. "Who is your boss?"

"I will never tell you." Roberts finally replied and Natasha almost ripped his 'little friend' right off. She tightened her grip on his neck and pushed her heels harder against his knees, twisting her hand around his manhood so much that Roberts almost lost consciousness. He was suffering but it still wasn't enough. She let go of his neck just as his lips started turning a light shade of blue, and punched him in the jaw again, hearing a satisfying crunch accompanied by an agonized howl.

Another punch to the nose and another satisfying crunch accompanied by a river of blood. She didn't stop. She kept pushing her heels, kept twisting her hand and kept punching, not caring about the blood flying onto her own face. She didn't even notice when Roberts lost consciousness. He hadn't suffered enough, he never would, not for Natasha anyway. She let out an agonized cry, tears falling and mixing with his blood as she relived the memories of the last two days.

Pictures of Steve tied to a floor, pictures of Roberts hitting Steve over and over again with the modified bat, tearing flesh and breaking bones. Pictures of Steve writhing in agony, suffering without relief. Pictures of Roberts punching Steve with brass knuckles, breaking more bones and tearing more skin. Pictures of Steve lying limply on the ground struggling to breathe. Pictures of Tony struggling against restraints, never giving up even as blow after blow was delivered to his stomach, chest and face. Pictures of Tony with Steve's head on his lap, begging them to get there before Steve died. Pictures of Steve reaching for her as she was pulled away and he was loaded onto a gurney.

She felt hands wrap around her waist and pull her off the bloodied and unrecognizable mess on the floor by her feet. She had beaten him beyond a pulp. She had made him suffer, but it would never be enough. "Nat, we need him alive." Clint whispered into her ear as medics rushed in. They gasped and briefly glanced at Natasha, each one noticing the blood dripping from her split knuckles. Her blood and his. She watched as they loaded him onto a gurney, shouting things at each other, listing injury after injury as they inserted IVs and drips.

Moments later, the medics had left the room, taking a barely breathing Roberts with them, leaving Natasha and Clint alone in the room. For a long time Clint kept his arms around Natasha and she didn't pull away. She couldn't tear her gaze away form the blood that covered almost every surface of the room. Steve's blood. "You feel better?" Clint asked, breaking the silence and pulling her out of her daze.

How could she feel better? Steve had suffered right in front of her eyes, right in front of everyone's eyes. She had only seen a portion of his suffering, and she didn't want to imagine the suffering he had endured that she hadn't seen. She didn't want to imagine how Tony felt as he tried to keep Steve alive. She had seen the blood on Tony's chest and legs and she knew it wasn't his. She knew Steve had been on Tony's lap, she knew Tony had done everything in his power to keep Steve alive and to get Steve out. She knew that she couldn't even imagine the half of their struggle, and she was partly grateful for that. She didn't want to know how bad it had been.

"No. He deserves to die." Natasha said, her gaze returning to the dried blood on the floor as she felt Clint's arms move from around her. She almost wanted to grab for him, bring back the warmth and comfort that his arms had held. She wanted to be enveloped in his embrace, safe from the horrors of the outside world, able to forget about Steve's torturous agony for just a second. Able to forget about Tony's hellish nightmare for just a second. But, she didn't grab for Clint. She stood motionless, staring at the blood.

"Slowly and painfully." Clint added, coming into her view and lifting her chin up so she was looking at him. She thought he had left the room, but, she was glad he hadn't. Having him there was a slight distraction from her thoughts. Steve's agonized grimace and desperate cries and whimpers filled her thoughts and she couldn't get away from them. Seeing Steve like that had brought tears to her eyes and reliving it was doing the same, except, this time, she didn't bother to wipe the tears away.

"Steve and Tony will be okay. Steve's Captain America and Tony... Well, he's a stubborn son of a bitch." Clint said, trying to offer some comfort. Natasha appreciated the effort but it didn't do anything to ease her nerves. Clint hadn't seen Steve, he hadn't seen the blood, he hadn't heard his desperate pleas for her to stay with him. He didn't understand. So, she didn't say anything.

She allowed Clint to embrace her again, she let down her guards and allowed herself to be vulnerable in front of someone she knew she could trust, someone she had allowed to see her at her worst before. She savored the feeling of safety as she wrapped her arms around Clint's waist, his arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

"They'll be okay." Clint repeated. Natasha wanted to believe it, she really did. But, Tony was only human and every human had their breaking points both emotionally and physically. She wasn't sure which one was worse. And Steve... She liked to believe he was untouchable, she liked to believe he would jump back up any second. But, she knew there were some things even the serum couldn't fix. Steve had been crushed, broken, and maybe the serum couldn't fix him. Losing him was a real possibility and Natasha realized she was going to have to accept it, whether she wanted to or not. And hell, she didn't want to.

"We don't know that." Natasha replied. Clint made no response, but Natasha didn't care. They stood in each other's embrace for a long time, silence surrounding them, undisturbed and heavy.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hi guys. Thank you for the fantastic support on my story, and the many kind reviews. It means a lot to me. **

**Thank you to every follower, favoriter, and the wonderful reviewers. **

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Natasha was pacing outside the room where Steve was being operated on in, just like she had been for twenty minutes. She wanted to see Steve, she wanted to make sure he was okay, but she wasn't sure if she could handle seeing him so broken, so wounded. She needed to maintain some of her previous impression of Steve, the impression that he was indestructible. She just wasn't sure if she could handle seeing him like that, if she could keep her composure, if she could hold in her emotions that had been threatening to spill all day.

So, she paced. She paced and checked the time, then paced and checked the time. Time was going slowly, a second feeling like a minute and a minute feeling like an hour. Her breathing was heavy and she felt as though her heart was going to beat right out of her chest. Voices and commotion surrounding her blurred into an indistinguishable haze, the words slurring into incomprehensible garble. All she could see was the ground beneath her feet as she walked, her head down and her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides.

"Natasha, you need to get those wounds checked." Fury said, his gaze scanning her body briefly for any other injuries. Natasha didn't hear him, she kept pacing, kept mumbling under her breath. Steve had to be okay, he had the super soldier serum. He had to be okay... But, then again, he had been damaged, hurt worse than anyone else Natasha had ever seen. He had been damaged beyond repair, maybe even with the serum.

"Hey, Natasha. Go to the doctor, get yourself checked out. I'll tell you if I hear any news on Steve or Tony." Fury said, grabbing Natasha by the wrist and forcing her to look him in the eye. She wrenched her wrist out of his grasp, shaking her head and taking a step back. Fury was so calm, so professional, and usually Natasha was too but, for some reason, she just couldn't get a grip on herself. She tried to calm herself down, she tried to convince herself that Steve was strong, but she had seen too much, watched as his life had oozed out of him, painting the ground red.

"Natasha, that's an order." Fury said, his voice firm and controlled, but necessary in the situation. He needed to knock some common sense into Natasha, convince her that she was of more use treated and calm. Natasha shook her head again as Fury grabbed her arm, and she resisted as he pulled on her, but eventually allowed herself to be dragged along, her own exhaustion and fatigue taking its toll on her body.

"Nick, he was so hurt." Natasha said, stopping dead in her tracks as she rubbed a hand over her face. Fury stopped and turned to face her, placing his hands on her shoulders, watching as one of the best agents he had nearly broke down in front of him. "How's Stark?" Natasha asked quietly as she saw one of the medics who had treated Tony walk past. Tony hadn't looked as bad as Steve, but Natasha knew that he had seen so much worse than he had felt. He had experienced more than anyone should experience, seen more than anyone should see.

"A broken rib, internal bruising, a pretty bad concussion, a small hairline fracture to his cheek bone, dehydration. He's asleep, like you should be." Fury replied, trying to convince Natasha to get some rest. The last two days had really taken their toll on her and it was starting to show. Her eyes were blood shot, black bags hanging underneath, her usually perfect hair now untidy.

"And Roberts?" Natasha asked, remembering as her fists pummeled his face, sending blood flying and spraying around her. She remembered the slight satisfaction she felt when she saw him lying in an unrecognizable, unconscious, bloodied heap on the ground. But, more than anything, she remembered wanting more, needing to hurt him more, needing to show him just what torture was. She remembered the nagging need for more satisfaction, more contentment as she felt his bones shift and crack beneath her knuckles.

"In surgery. You did a number on him." Fury said, unable to hide the smirk that tugged at his lips, showcasing his pride in Natasha. She had gone against protocol, she had done something that should be punishable, but she had exacted revenge and she had managed to send a message out to anyone who tried to mess with the Avengers ever again. She had followed her heart, done what she felt was right, done to him what he deserved.

"Would have done worse if Clint hadn't pulled me off." Natasha said, managing to catch Fury's short smirk, returning one of her own. Suddenly a gut wrenching, heartbreaking scream sliced through the air, making Natasha turn on her heels and look towards the direction from which the scream had come. Fury had dropped his hands to his sides, also staring, as others stopped what they were doing and stared, their heads all facing one direction.

Another scream tore through the air, making Natasha's hair stand on end, her eyes widening as she realized where the scream was coming from. It was Steve's scream, coming from behind the doors of the operating room. Natasha felt Fury grab her shoulder but she pulled away and before anyone could stop her, she was sprinting toward the doors, pushing her way through them as she ignored the people telling her to stop. She had promised Steve she would stay with him, and she had left him. She felt guilt settle in the pit of her stomach, guilt for having broken her promise to Steve. She needed to get to him.

As she made her way into the operating room, she stopped running, staring at the cluster of doctors surrounding Steve, covering him from view. Someone grabbed her by the forearm and she turned to face the person who was holding her back. It was one if the doctors, wearing green scrubs covered in blood. Steve's blood. "You can't be here." The doctor said, her blue eyes meeting Natasha's, communicating such panic, such pure sympathy for the wounded super soldier.

"I need to be here." Natasha begged more than said. The doctor was about to reject, but another scream echoed through the room and the doctor turned back to Natasha, her grip tightening as Natasha tried to rush forward. The doctor was handed a pair of scrubs and placed them in Natasha's hand, telling Natasha to follow her. Natasha nodded and followed the doctor out the room.

In the other room, Natasha pulled the scrubs over her clothes and listened as the doctor explained Steve's condition. "He's lost a lot of blood and we're transfusing blood and IV fluids in order to assist his body in regenerating blood. Look, I don't know much about the serum, but he's been starved for two days and it appears to have affected his usually fast healing process." The doctor said, handing Natasha a bar of soap and gesturing for her to wash her hands. Natasha did as she was told, cleaning every dip and crack and crevice in her hands until they were spotless.

"His metabolism is four times faster than a normal human being's." Natasha said, wiping her hands on the towel offered to her and glancing through the window, her heartbeat increasing rapidly as Steve bucked and struggled on the operation bed. He was in pain and he was scared and Natasha needed to be by his side. She just needed to be.

"Okay, well, we've been treating his severe dehydration and malnutrition, but it appears that as his dehydration and malnutrition gets better, the morphine seems to be having less of an effect. We've been feeding him enough morphine to knock out an elephant, but it's not working anymore, and it's reached the point of being unsafe to give him any more." The doctor said, and Natasha felt her heart drop and settle in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't fathom the idea of Steve suffering without relief for hours and hours on end, maybe even days. It killed her, tortured her.

The doctor was still talking but Natasha didn't care as she pushed past her, almost knocking her over on her way out the door. She rushed to Steve's side, his screams getting more frequent and more distressed. He seemed so far away, and no matter how fast she ran, she couldn't seem to get to him fast enough. Finally, she was next to him, her hands fumbling for his left hand and grabbing it tightly, squeezing and stroking it with her thumb.

"Steve, Steve. I'm here. It's Natasha, look at me, please. Can you look at me?" Natasha whispered, locking gazes with Steve. His eyelids fluttered as he searched the room, frantically looking for the source of the familiar voice. He was so pale, almost ghostly, and covered in sweat and blood. His face was contorted in agony, his entire body trembling and tensing and convulsing as he doctors worked on him. Natasha held his chin in one of her hands, gently guiding his head to look at her. Finally, his pained blue eyes met hers, and she smiled. Steve was alive. He was in pain and he was scared, but he was alive.

She allowed herself to briefly glance at Steve's body as the doctors worked on him. One doctor was sewing up the worst of the wounds on his chest and stomach, whilst another doctor was working on his shoulder, his forceps plunged deep into the shoulder and realigning the bones. They were doing so much at once, and Steve was writhing under their touch, but Natasha knew they couldn't stop, his life depended on it. Natasha squeezed Steve's hand tighter and whispered, "Steve, look at me. Please. Look at me."

Tears were welling in her eyes as Steve fought against the agony and opened his eyes to slits, looking at her. Tears streamed down his temples and cheeks. By now, the blood was gone, the wounds on his face stitched and cleaned already, but it just made the wounds look worse. Natasha allowed a tear to fall down her cheek and and on to the floor as she looked at Steve's barely recognizable face, beaten to a pulp. His nose was swollen and blue, his eyes almost swollen shut, his nose was definitely broken. A large gash was below his eye, another on his chin, another along his hairline, another above his eyebrow. He had been beaten to an absolute pulp.

"Natasha... M-make it stop... Please." Steve begged, grinding his teeth as he fought the urge to scream again. Natasha held his hand to her chest, kissing it and running her finger over his knuckles. She had never been one to cry, and she had seen more than her fair share of sad events. But, now, watching Steve suffer, it broke something within her and she felt like she would never be the same again. She knew his screams would haunt her dreams and follow her everywhere she went. She would never get away from them.

"Steve, listen to me and not them, okay?" Natasha said, swallowing the lump in her throat and watching as another doctor worked feverishly to stitch the gaping wounds in Steve's thigh, informing each other of Steve's multiple wounds. She glanced up, catching sight of an x-ray of Steve's chest hung up against the fluorescent light. His ribs and sternum looked like a mess of fragmented and shattered bone. She couldn't even distinguish one rib from the other, or the sternum from the ribs. A tube hung out of Steve's chest, removing fluids from Steve's punctured lung.

Steve nodded, panting and whimpering and crying. "Did you get Roberts?" Steve panted, his grip tightening on Natasha's hand so much that she almost winced, but stopped herself from doing so. The last thing she wanted was Steve feeling bad for hurting her. She smiled, thinking about the pain Roberts was in, finding some sick sort of pleasure in it.

"We got him... We got him good." Natasha said, smirking and grunting a laugh. Steve gasped as one of the doctors pushed down on his chest too hard. "Hey, watch it. What are you doing?" Natasha asked, watching as the doctor started deliberately pushing down on Steve's chest. Steve cried out in pain, his back arching off the table and his body trembling so hard it shook the operating bed.

"We need to realign his bones, and if we can do it without opening him up, then that's better. Safer." The doctor said as she carried on pushing down on Steve's chest. Steve cried out and screamed and whimpered, his eyes squeezed shut as tears pooled on the operating table beside his bed. Natasha kissed his knuckles again, growing more frantic to distract Steve, try get his mind off the pain. She choked on a sob and placed one hand on Steve's cheek, wiping the tears falling from his eyes and whispering soothing things.

"Steve, I got Roberts." Natasha repeated, trying to draw his attention away from the agony. Steve didn't answer as his head lolled to the side and his back arched again. "Steve, listen to me, please. Please." Natasha begged, more tears falling down her cheeks. But Steve couldn't hear her, he was screaming and sobbing and Natasha just couldn't help him. God, she wanted to, she really did, but he was too far lost in the pain, too far gone for her to help and it tore her up inside. "Steve..." She tried one more time, once again getting no response as Steve thrashed weakly on the bed, his blood staining the blue sheets purple.

And that was only the beginning of it.

* * *

Four hours later, Steve was out of surgery and lying unconscious on a bed as the nurses wiped all the blood off him. They used towel after towel, cloth after cloth, staining them red. Then, they wrapped his wounds in bandaging and gauze. His legs, his stomach, his chest, his back and his shoulder were covered in slightly bloodied bandages. Natasha watched them from the side of the room, her hands shaking at her sides and her breathing fast and heavy.

It had been the worst experience she had ever been through. And she had been through a lot. She had killed people, she had watched people die, watched them burn alive, watched them suffer, watched them bleed out, but she had never truly felt their deaths. But, watching Steve suffer for hours on end before finally succumbing to the comforting and painless unconsciousness that beckoned him, had scarred her. She was shaking and she no longer cared about the tears falling down her face as she watched Steve's limp body get twisted and turned and wrapped in bandages.

He looked dead, and if it weren't for the occasional fogging of the oxygen mask supplying oxygen to his damaged and destroyed lungs, and the constant, even if slightly irregular, beeping of the heart monitor, Natasha would have thought he was dead. Nurses left after a few more minutes, wheeling out the bloodied towels and sheets, and leaving Natasha alone in the room with Steve. He had IVs hooked up to him, and constant morphine was dripping into his veins, even though they knew it would do next to nothing to numb the pain.

It had been three long, tiring, distressing hours. Natasha had held Steve's hand as the doctors repositioned his shattered ribs and sternum, eventually having to cut him open in order to realign completely shattered bone fragments. Natasha had held his face in her hands as they repaired the severe damage done to his shoulder. His scapula and clavicle and shoulder joint completely shattered, the surrounding muscle and tissue destroyed. She had run her hand through his bloodied hair as the doctors disinfected and sutured the festering wounds on Steve's back, shushing him as he whimpered and cried.

She had spoken to him, even if it was mostly a one sided conversation, when they casted his entire left leg. His humerus had been broken in three places, and he required a cast that almost reached his hip. She had comforted him as they repaired the damaged arteries causing internal bleeding. She had held his hand tighter when they had to turn him over in order to reposition dislocated vertebrae. That was when he lost consciousness, his previously tense and trembling body going limp on the bed. But, Natasha had refused to let go of Steve by then. She had held onto him until two doctors had dragged her away and forced her to sit down so they could tend to her injuries.

It had taken them all of half an hour, and by then Steve had been taken into recovery. Natasha had pushed and shoved her way in, refusing to listen to those telling her to take a rest. Fury had watched her walk, his gaze unwavering as she looked straight through him as if he were a ghost, her focus solely on the doors leading into the recovery room. Clint stood next to Fury, whispering in his ear with a grim expression on his face, but Natasha hadn't noticed him either.

As Natasha stood in the corner of the room, watching Steve's motionless figure on the bed, his heavily bandaged chest rising and falling unevenly, Clint walked up beside her. "No one puts Baby in a corner." He joked, trying to lighten the tense and heavy atmosphere in the room. Natasha cracked the smallest of smiles, unable to stop herself, but she never took her eyes away from Steve. "How is he?" Clint asked, his gaze falling on Steve, too.

"Not good, how's Stark?" Natasha asked, absentmindedly fiddling with the bandage covering her arm. Clint was wearing a thin shirt, the bandage covering his chest wound clearly visible underneath. He wrapped a comforting arm around Natasha, his strength and steadiness calming Natasha slightly and lessening her constant shaking. She leaned into his touch, savoring the safety she felt being in his embrace once again.

"He's okay, still sleeping." Clint informed Natasha. Steve groaned on the bed and Natasha pulled away from Clint, taking a step closer to Steve as he stirred slightly. He was waking up, slowly but surely, and Natasha wasn't sure if that was a good thing. A least in unconsciousness, he couldn't feel the pain.

"And Roberts?" Natasha asked, placing a hand on Steve's elevated left leg covered in a cast. She hoped Roberts was in agony. She hoped he was being treated as badly as he had treated Steve. She hoped he was suffering without relief like Steve was. She looked at Clint when he didn't answer immediately, catching him biting his bottom lip nervously and fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "And Roberts?" Natasha repeated, her eyes narrowing.

"He's dead." Clint replied and Natasha frowned, shaking her head in disbelief. Steve groaned again and she placed her hand on his chest, just beside the blue sling that held his arm tight against his chest, and just over the bandaging. Not an inch of his chest or back or stomach was peeking out from the bandaging.

"No, that's impossible. I didn't hit him that hard." Natasha shook her head again. She needed him alive so she could find out who his boss was and find his boss, and make his boss suffer worse than Steve and Tony had suffered. She so desperately wanted to make Roberts suffer further, she so desperately needed to make him suffer further. And she needed him as an information source. He couldn't be dead, he just couldn't.

"Not because of you, Nat. He swallowed a cyanide pill. He's dead." Clint answered. Natasha gulped and glanced around the room, trying to clear her thoughts. Then, it came to her. She didn't need to worry, they had at least twenty other agents that they could interrogate for information.

"We have the other enemy survivors. They can tell us. They will know. We can interrogate them to find out who the boss is." Natasha said, nodding her head and smiling hopefully, fakely, because she had cried enough. Clint shook his head and Natasha's smile faded, her world stopped spinning beneath her feet. She knew what Clint was going to say before he said it.

"They took cyanide pills, too, Nat. They're all dead. We have no one to lead us to the boss." Clint said, just as Steve moaned again. Steve thrashed on the bed slightly, but his eyes remained closed. Natasha placed a hand in his left arm, tracing one of the huge bruises that covered it, and stared at Clint. A her touch Steve calmed down, his body returning to motionlessness. She spent a moment mulling over the new information, too shocked to speak or move.

"So you're telling me that whoever arranged this for Steve and Tony got away with it?" Natasha asked. Clint nodded and she clenched her free hand at her side in frustration. Their only hope at payback was lost. The man who wanted to kill Steve was still out there, and, if he had planned ahead in case of the capture of his agents, been prepared enough to give them cyanide tablets, he was smarter than they had originally thought.

As long as he was still out there, nameless, faceless, traceless, Steve was in danger. The whole of S.H.I.E.L.D. was in danger.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hi guys. Thanks again for the amazing reviews on my story! I cannot express how grateful I am for all the fantastic and kind reviews, and for the follows and favorites.**

**Also, I would just like to say that I'm aware Coulson died in Avengers, but I just love him so much.**

* * *

Tony could hear a long never-ending shrill in the darkness. It was dull and constant, and every second it got louder as the darkness lightened. Soon, the constant shrill became a distinguished pattern of short, high pitched beeps in the background. Tony's eyes were closed and all he could see was blackness, but the beeping was worsening his already terrible headache and he needed it to stop.

He tried to pry his eyelids open, but they weighed a thousand pounds and the small movement warranted more effort than Tony thought possible and soon he gave up. He spent minutes listening to the beeping, silently willing it to stop. Soon enough, his body started aching. It started at his head, then his chest, then his cheek. It was a dull throbbing, not enough to cause pain but enough to cause some discomfort. Then, he heard footsteps and voices. The words were slurred but he recognized the voices immediately.

He pulled his eyelids apart sluggishly, exhausting himself with the effort. At the foot of his bed stood Bruce and Fury having a hushed conversation. Tony tried to call their names but all that came out was an embarrassing, hoarse croak, but it caught the attention of the two men. Bruce's gaze turned to Tony's face, and Fury turned on his heels and walked over to Tony's side, smiling slightly. Tony's throat hurt and he swallowed painfully as he took in his surroundings.

He was in a room with white walls, white blinds, white tile flooring and a plastic chair just beside the bed by a myriad of machinery. It was the machine by Tony's side that was making that irritating beeping, and Tony tried to reach up to turn it off, but the needles stuck in his arm held him back and his arm dropped to his side limply. He was in a hospital room. He was so tired and so weak and so sore, and he couldn't remember why he was where he was.

"Welcome back, Stark." Fury said, smiling as his hand patted Tony's shoulder. Tony frowned, trying to speak again but coming up with nothing but a croak yet again. A cup of ice chips was held in front of him and he swallowed some quickly, almost sighing in relief when the soreness in his throat almost completely disappeared. He pushed himself to a more upright position on the bed, wincing slightly as it hurt his chest.

"Easy." Bruce said, placing a hand in Tony's chest, pleading for him to lie back down with a simple look. Tony pushed Bruce's hand away as he looked down and found himself in a hospital gown. It was then that he remembered. He remembered blood on his clothes, so much blood, and it was sticking to his skin and under his nails and in his hair. And, he remembered it wasn't his blood. It had been Steve's.

"Where's Steve?" Tony asked, pulling the IV out of his arm and roughly pushing the sheets off his body, exposing his legs and feet covered in white hospital socks. He ignored the pain in his chest and head. It all came rushing back to him. He remembered Steve trembling and whimpering and crying on his lap, bleeding out. He remembered watching as Roberts attacked Steve, breaking Steve's bones, splitting skin open. He remembered Steve's cries of agony, his desperate pleas for the pain to stop.

"Take it easy. Sit down, Tony." Bruce said, placing his hands on Tony's shoulders and pushing him down as Tony flung his legs over the side of the hospital bed. Tony remembered shooting Roberts, he remembered getting out of that godforsaken concrete prison, half carrying Steve through the tunnels and up the stairs. He remembered finding Natasha. And he remembered feeling sun on his face for the first time in two days, basking in the warmth for only a second before darkness overwhelmed him. Tony pushed Bruce off and glared a him, challenging him to try stop him.

"How long was I out?" Tony asked getting to his feet. He swayed for a moment but Bruce held out a supportive arm and Tony reluctantly took it. He took a few calming breaths, straightening up as the pain dulled to a manageable throb again.

"Twelve hours." Fury replied. Fury's face was hard, emotionless, but his eyes betrayed him as he looked at Tony. There was such worry, such panic in his eyes that Tony knew something was seriously wrong, and he knew the panic and worry wasn't about him. He was fine. But maybe Steve wasn't. He needed to get to Steve.

"Where the hell is Steve?" Tony shouted as he pushed away from Bruce. He sighed in relief when his legs carried his body weight and he was able to stand by himself. On the chair by the bed there was clothing, a pair of scrubs, and Tony took them and pulled the pants on under his hospital gown, ignoring Bruce's pleas for him to lie down. "Where the fuck is Steve?" Tony repeated when he realized no one had answered him. His heartbeat was quickening in panic. _What if Steve hadn't made it?_

"He's alive." Fury replied, taking a step forward. Tony allowed himself to crack a minuscule smile as he ripped the hospital gown off his body, wincing slightly as it pulled on his chest. He lifted his arms up slowly and pulled on the scrubs shirt. He felt more human in pants and a shirt, he felt less vulnerable, less fragile. Steve was alive, and while that didn't necessarily mean that he was okay, it did mean that he had made it. And that was the most comforting news Tony had heard since he had woken up.

"I need to see him. Now." Tony said. He stood to his full height, his right hand absentmindedly rubbing his cheek. He could feel a neat row of stitches just below his eye, and for the first time, he noticed the heavy bandaging around his wrists. He remembered the restraints that held him down and prevented him from helping Steve, no matter how much he struggled and writhed.

"I'll take you." Someone said. The voice came from the doorway and all three men turned to face it. Natasha stood in the doorway. Her hair was untidy and knotty, her uniform was ripped and bandaging covered her upper arm and thigh. She had bags under her eyes, and her cheeks were red and blotchy and Tony knew she had been crying. His panic heightened. Natasha never cried.

Fury nodded and Bruce took a step back. Tony walked toward Natasha. He hadn't expected a kiss or even a hug, he hadn't even expected her to ask him how he was. Natasha was an agent, and she had the typical traits of one. No emotion, no compassion. So, Tony was taken aback when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, squeezing him just tight enough not to hurt him or aggravate his injuries. He hesitated before wrapping his own arms around her and burying his face in her hair. He would never admit it, but the comfort of having someone near who could protect him was almost overwhelming. It was exactly what he needed.

Outside Tony's door stood three SHIELD agents and two security guys holding guns and scanning the hallway, looking for any potential threats. A few visitors and nurses glanced nervously and curiously at them, deliberately walking around them. A few of them stared at Tony in bewilderment, others purposely ignored him as they averted their gaze.

Natasha pulled away and tucked her red hair behind her ears. She started walking down the corridor and Tony followed her without hesitation. They passed doctors and patients on beds and grieving families. At the end of the hall, Natasha stopped outside a door and turned to face Tony. She looked around, her body tensing as she readied herself to protect them against any threats. Tony looked around too, wondering what had Natasha so on edge. She opened the door that led to the stairs and started walking up them, not looking back as Tony struggled to keep up with her fast and determined stride.

"How is everyone else?" Tony asked. He remembered seeing Coulson, Bruce, Fury, Clint, and even Hill, but he couldn't remember seeing Thor. Which was strange, because Tony had expected Thor to be the first to rush to Steve's aid once they had exited the concrete hell they had been trapped in for almost two days. But, Thor had been nowhere in sight. "Thor. How's Thor?" Tony asked. He didn't even have the energy to make a witty comment or ask a sarcastic rhetorical question.

"He's here." Natasha replied. Tony noticed how her hands clenched into fists and her body tensed at the mention of Thor's name, and he knew something was wrong. He knew she wasn't telling him something.

"Here as in watching over Steve or here as in lying in a hospital bed?" Tony asked, grabbing Natasha's arm and pulling her so she was forced to stop walking and face him. She didn't pull her arm out of his grasp, but he let his fingers slip off and he moved his arm to his chest, holding it protectively as his ribs ached. She looked him up and down, biting her lip nervously and taking deep breaths. "Natasha... Is Thor okay?" Tony asked, his voice soft. He placed his hands on her shoulders and took a step closer as his hazel eyes bore into her green ones.

"He saved my life, and he's lying in a hospital bed because of it." Natasha answered eventually. Tears polled in her eyes, threatening to spill, but she blinked them away quickly and looked away from Tony in embarrassment. "He used mjölnir to destroy a rocket that was meant to kill me, and he threw himself on top of me to protect me."

"What happened to him?" Tony asked, gulping nervously as he watched the one women he had never expected to cry almost break down in front of him. He hadn't realized how hard things had been on her, and he wondered just how much she had seen, and just how strong her feelings were. He had never seen her so broken, so destroyed. He never thought he would.

"Second degree burns, internal bleeding and a concussion." Natasha replied. Tony pictured Thor, the indestructible, invincible Asgardian lying on a hospital bed covered in bandages and surrounded by machines. He imagined seeing Thor in pain, another thing he never thought would happen. The Avengers were crumbling around him and it was all because of Roberts. He hoped and prayed that Roberts got what he deserved, along with his faceless boss.

"Where is he?" Tony asked. He wanted to see Thor, but he needed to see Steve first, he needed to make sure Steve was okay first. He hadn't realized that his hands were trembling until he slowly took them off Natasha's shoulders. Fear and panic and anger was coursing through his veins.

"He's in a hospital room on the same floor as you. Clint is with him and we have guards stationed inside the room." Natasha said, composing herself and turning on her heels before running up the stairs again. Her pace quickened and as Tony followed her he had to stop himself from slipping as his socks slid across the clean tiles.

"How bad is Steve?" Tony asked, panting as they reached a door that Natasha pushed opened. He hunched over, silently willing the pain in his chest and cheek and head to go away. He wasn't even sure what his own injuries were, but he didn't care. He never knew it was possible to feel such indescribable panic and fear and worry for one person, especially a person he barely got along with only a few months ago.

Natasha kept walking and Tony followed. He glanced at the ceiling and looked away quickly when he saw what floor they were on. ICU. At the end of the hallway stood four guards and two SHIELD agents, also holding guns and scanning the hallway. Tony and Natasha walked past patients in beds barely breathing, slowly dying, hanging onto life by tiny threads. And Steve seemed to be one of those patients. Outside the last door leading into a private room, Natasha turned and faced Tony, her forlorn expression already communicating volumes. "He's bad, Tony. Really bad. Bruce said that even with the serum, he wasn't sure whether Steve would make it." Natasha whispered, her voice cracking as tears shone in her eyes.

Tony nodded and looked at Natasha's hand on the door handle. He wasn't sure if he was ready to see what was behind that door. He wasn't sure what to expect. "Is he awake?" He asked, shaking his head as he felt tears sting his eyes. He allowed a tear to fall down his cheek as the last few days' events finally dawned on him and he realized how bad it was, that it wasn't all just some sick dream.

Natasha nodded slowly and her face crumpled in a mixture of horror and desperation as her grip on the door handle tightened to the point of her knuckles turning white. "Yes, and he's in so much pain, Tony. The morphine is doing nothing to help him... He asked for you." She replied, looking up at Tony and choking on a saddened sob. Tony nodded, realizing why Natasha had been at his door. Steve had asked for him and for some reason, it put pressure in Tony's shoulders. He straightened his posture, ignoring his own aches and pains as Natasha opened the door haltingly.

Tony cursed under his breath as he saw what had been waiting for him behind he door. It was worse than he had thought it would be. It was worse than the hours he had spent trying to keep Steve conscious in that concrete room, watching him bleed and writhe in agony. He allowed tears to fall down his cheeks freely as he took a step inside the room and Natasha followed, silently closing the door behind her.

Steve lay on the bed, his entire stomach and chest and shoulder covered in bloodied bandaging. Underneath the thin sheets of the hospital bed, Tony could make out the outline of a long cast covering Steve's one leg. The harness in which his leg had been elevated was snapped and thrown to the side of the room, obviously proven useless. His other leg was covered in bloodied bandaging. Steve's face was a mess of bruises and swelling and stitches. His right arm was held against his chest by tight bandaging and a broken sling lay on the floor beside the bed.

The machines surrounding Steve were beeping fast and unevenly. Steve was drenched in sweat and his entire body was tense as it trembled in agony. His face was contorted in pain and his pale skin was a stark contrast to the bruising that covered almost every inch of his body. Blood stained the sheets under Steve's back as the bandaging on his chest and stomach and back was drenched with blood from reopened wounds. A doctor was running around feverishly, desperately trying to help Steve in any way possible, but even Tony could see that there was nothing she could do.

He took a few more steps and placed a hand on the flustered doctor's shoulder. She turned around with a start and Tony noticed the tears in her eyes. Tears of sympathy and panic and fear. "Go." He said, nodding. The doctor smiled in appreciation and rushed out the room. Tony neared the bed, taking slow, hesitant steps as he looked at the suffering super soldier on the bed. Natasha watched Tony with tears in her eyes and gestured that she was going to leave so Tony could have alone time with Steve. They had been through so much together, and they deserved some time to themselves. Time to do whatever the hell they chose to do.

"Steve? Steve, it's Tony." Tony said, placing his hand on Steve's hand that was wrapped tightly in the sheets, squeezing them. Steve's eyes fluttered open and his eyes searched the room frantically until his gaze landed on Tony. Tony stood motionless for a while, unsure of what to do, unsure of how to react.

"Tony?" Steve asked quietly. His voice was hoarse and weak and it broke Tony's heart. He tried to compose himself, but he couldn't stop the tears from falling down his face. He furiously wiped them away, feeling unbelievable anger rise from his core. He wanted to kill the person who had done this to Steve. He wanted to tear Roberts apart limb from limb, then find his boss and do the same. He needed to.

"Yeah, Steve, it's me." Tony said, smiling sadly as Steve's hand released the sheets and grabbed Tony's, squeezing it to the point of pain, but Tony didn't care. Steve shifted in the bed, writhing and struggling in agony. He choked on a sob, and allowed tears to fall down his cheeks and mix with the sweat on his face. He looked up at Tony with eyes of such naïvety and innocence that Tony almost forgot Steve was Captain America and not just a normal civilian. Almost, but not quite. That's what made this so wrong. Steve was supposed to be untouchable, but there he was, lying in a hospital bed, barely hanging on. He wasn't invincible, and The Avengers had learnt that the hard way.

"Tony." Steve sobbed and he curled in on himself. Without hesitation, Tony climbed onto the bed and sat beside Steve. Tony wasn't an emotional person, he wasn't touchy and he liked to be alone. But, he was willing to do anything to help Steve, even if that meant being emotional and touchy. He pushed he pillows back and pulled Steve to his chest, holding him tightly and rocking him back and forth as Steve cried and whimpered in Tony's arms. "Tony." Steve repeated around a sob, his voice communicating his relief. Whether it was relief that Tony was alive or relief that Tony was there, Tony wasn't sure.

"I'm here. I'm here. It's okay. You can get through this." Tony muttered over and over again as his hands tightened on the thick bandaging that covered Steve's entire upper odd and most of his legs. Steve's left hand clung onto Tony's scrubs tightly. Tony didn't notice as Steve's sweat and blood stained the scrubs, and even if he did notice, he wouldn't care. As they sat rocking back and forth on the bed, Tony couldn't help but think about how they were in the exact same positions, the exact same roles as only a few hours before.

"Are... are you okay?" Steve asked breathlessly, pulling away from Tony just enough to look him in the eyes. Tony smiled broadly. Steve might have been shattered and broken on the bed, weak and suffering, but Captain America still shone through the cracks. Even throughout his agony and distress, his first thought was his team, and Tony had to respect him for his selflessness.

"I'm fine, Spangles. I'm fine. We're all fine." Tony lied. He decided Steve didn't need to know about Thor. It would only worry Steve more and Tony wasn't sure whether Steve's body could handle the extra stress. Steve sighed in relief and fell back against Tony. Tony rubbed Steve's back, hoping it provided some comfort for the wounded super soldier even through the thick bandages and array of stitches and wounds.

Natasha walked back into the room, stopping in her tracks as she saw the two men on the bed in front of her. Tony realized how strange they must have looked, but he didn't give a shit. Natasha cleared her throat, blinking rapidly as she stared at Steve in the bed. He was in agony and no one could no anything to help him, but he had calmed down slightly when Tony had come. It was almost as if he needed someone who understood what he had been through to be there for him, and it seemed that he was calmer once he found out Tony was okay. "Can I talk to you outside?" She asked, holding the door open.

Tony looked down at the super soldier he was cradling his arms, and he hesitated. He reluctantly agreed and slowly tried to slip out from under Steve, but Steve's grip on his scrubs on tightened. Steve's pained eyes met Tony's and silently pleaded for him to stay. "No, please... Please stay. D-don't leave. Please... Please." Steve begged between gasps for breath. "Please stay." He repeated. Tony couldn't leave Steve, not when he was in so much pain and suffering without relief. So, he returned to his original position and cradled Steve against his chest.

And, this time, he did forget that Steve was Captain America. He wasn't a super soldier that had survived being shot, and stabbed, and beaten up, and blasted into walls. He wasn't a super soldier that had survived in ice for seventy years. He wasn't the serum enhanced superhero kids had posters of in their rooms. He wasn't an Avenger. He was a twenty-something year old, who was lost and confused and in agony and who needed someone there. Who needed to know that there was someone who was willing to comfort him and who understood what he had been through.

"Tell me here. I can't leave Steve. I won't." Tony said. Tony felt like Steve still needed protecting, and as long as he could help, he would. Natasha stared at him for a long time before closing the door and walking into the room, stopping at Tony's side. She looked at Steve and placed a hand on his back, not caring as blood wet her fingers. The wounds were bleeding, but not as heavily as they had been before Steve and Tony had been rescued. Steve calmed even more at her touch, but his trembling and pained gasps for air continued. Natasha shook her head.

"Stark-"

"Just tell me." Tony inerrupted. "And press the call button, Steve needs clean sheets and bandages." Tony looked at the crimson stained sheets he was sitting on, and ran his hand along the wet bandages on Steve's back. It wasn't right. None of this was right.

Natasha nodded and pressed the call button. It was torture for her and Tony as they watched Steve go through a living hell that neither of them would ever have to experience. And Steve hadn't even been spared the kindness of unconsciousness where pain was basically nonexistent. Natasha leaned in closer and whispered, "Roberts and every other enemy agent killed themselves. We have no leads. Whoever arranged this for Steve is going to get off free."

Tony's jaw dropped and he shook his head in disbelief. The men who had done this to Steve had gotten out before he could get to them, and the man who had told them to do it would never be found. Tony was helpless and he hated it. He hated that the men had got off so easy. It killed him on the inside. "So... So, now what do we do?" Tony asked, stumbling on his words. For once, he was speechless as he stared at the wronged super soldier on his lap.

A doctor walked into the room carrying medical supplies, and a nurse followed, carrying clean sheets. They'd stopped by the door, sensing that they shouldn't interrupt the conversation. "Nothing, for now." Natasha replied, taking a step back and waiting for Tony to get off the bed so the doctor could help Steve. But, Tony didn't move as he stared at Natasha credulously.

"What the fuck do you mean nothing? We have to do something. We can't... We can't just leave it at this." Tony screamed. Steve had started screaming in pain and he was hanging onto Tony so tightly that the scrubs started ripping at the seams. Natasha shook her head slowly, watching helplessly as Steve struggled on the bed, fighting a losing battle against the pain.

"What do you want us to do, Stark? We have agents searching the place but they haven't found any evidence leading us to the leader of this illegal corporation. We have no leads." Natasha yelled back. Tony's face reddened in anger. He wasn't angry at Natasha, and he wasn't angry at SHIELD. He was angry at Roberts for breaking Steve, angry at himself for not protecting Steve properly, and angry at the world that the leader was out there somewhere, a free man. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right. Steve didn't deserve this.

"I... I just need us to do something... Anything." Tony whispered softly. Thankfully, Steve had fallen unconscious on Tony's lap, and Tony took the opportunity to slide out from underneath Steve and allow the doctor to work on Steve. Tony grabbed Natasha's arm and pulled her to the corner of the room as the doctor unwrapped Steve's blood stained bandages. A second doctor walked in with a gurney and helped the first doctor transfer Steve onto it. The nurse changed the bloodied bed sheets and plumped the pillows as the two doctors cleaned Steve, wiping away blood and pouring on disinfectant. The doctor restitched most of Steve's reopened wounds, making the most of Steve's unconsciousness, and Tony was dismayed to see that in twelve hours, Steve hadn't healed at all. The serum was under too much stress, and there are some things even the serum can't fix. The doctors bandaged Steve's upper body and leg again, securing his arm to his chest, before returning him to the bed and covering him with sheets.

Once the doctors had left, Tony whispered, "We need to do something." He couldn't just do nothing. He wasn't willing to. Not when the psycho who had done this to Steve was still out there. Not until that psycho had paid with his life, at Tony's hands.

"For now, all we can do is make sure Steve and Thor get better. All we can do is be there for Steve, and once he's better, protect him to the best of our abilities. We won't let whoever did this do it again. Next time he tries, we will catch him." Natasha replied and Tony nodded in understanding. It wasn't much, but it was all they could do, and Tony would have to accept that. Suddenly, the door was pushed open roughly and a flustered Coulson ran in, carrying a note in his right hand. He searched the room until he found Tony and Natasha and he ran to them.

"We got a note." Coulson said breathlessly, waving the note in the air.

"From who?" Tony asked, frowning in confusion as Coulson held the note tightly. Natasha grabbed it from Coulson and read it silently. Her face went taut with anger and worry as she stood motionless, accidentally dropping the note to the floor. "Who's it from?" Tony replied, growing anxious at seeing Natasha's reaction.

"From the man who did this to Steve... Roberts' boss." Natasha replied. "He's threatening us."


	14. Chapter 14

**Hi guys. I'm so sorry for the long wait, school's been so busy lately, but here is the next chapter. We are getting close to the end of the story!**

******Once again, thanks for the utterly breathtaking response to my story! The reviews are amazing and they really do make my day, so thanks guys. Thank you for the alerts, they mean a lot!**

* * *

"He's threatening us." Natasha said, her green eyes vacant as she stared at Steve who lay on the bed, stirring in unconsciousness occasionally. Even in the depths of unconsciousness, Steve's face was pinched in pain and his hands were curled into loose fists. He was hurting, and nothing, not even unconsciousness, could relieve him of it. Natasha didn't know what to do, how to react, so she stood motionless and speechless as she stared through Steve. Looking but not seeing.

"He... He what?" Tony muttered, his voice barely audible over the sound of multiple beeping machines. Natasha didn't answer him, nor did Coulson. Natasha had so desperately wanted to find the man who did this to Steve, to kill him so slowly and so painfully that he would beg for mercy. She had wanted him to suffer, she still did, but now that he was so close, she wasn't sure how to react. He was watching them, he was so near, but she couldn't do anything about it. He could be watching her, he could be watching Steve, and she wouldn't know.

She hated it. She hated knowing that he was so close to her, but still so far out of her reach. She hated knowing that he was able to outsmart S.H.I.E.L.D. and evade capture. She hated knowing that even in a hospital, surrounded by agents and policemen, Steve wasn't safe. And, there was no way he would be able to defend himself. He was too injured, too weak, and Natasha hated it. She had once thought she knew what hate was, but she hadn't known, not until three days ago when Steve and Tony had been taken.

The words from the letter filled her mind, pounding at her skull. Her head was pounding and the words were getting louder and louder, but the words wouldn't disappear, she couldn't forget them. They just kept repeating over and over. She allowed herself to sag against the wall and drop to the floor, burying her head in her hands as she rocked back and forth and silently begged the words to go away. She needed to be strong, she needed to be okay, for Steve, for Tony, for herself, but she couldn't. For the first time, she realized that even she had a breaking point, and she had reached it a long time ago.

"Fucking son of a bitch!" Tony yelled and Natasha looked up. Tony was holding the letter in his right hand, scrunching it up as his hands curled into tight fists and his face reddened in anger. He threw the letter to the floor and banged the wall with the side of his fist, leaning his forehead against the cold paint. He kept hitting the wall, not hard enough to crack the dry wall, but more of a constant rhythmic pattern, almost matching the fast beat of Natasha's heart. "I'm going to fucking murder him!" Tony yelled, and this time, the drywall did crack.

Natasha didn't so much as flinch when the drywall drifted to the floor by her side and the wall behind her back reverberated. She turned to Coulson who was standing awkwardly, watching Steve breathe unsteadily on the bed. Steve's hands were curled up in the blankets, squeezing them so tightly that his bruised and scratched knuckles turned white. He was waking up and Natasha was dreading it, dreading seeing him suffer and writhe in indescribable pain again. "I thought he was invincible." Coulson commented and Natasha looked at him silently.

She didn't reply at first. She thought he was invincible once, too. She had thought that S.H.I.E.L. invincible once, too. But, here they were, breaking apart in the hospital room of their critically injured captain who had a long, painful road of recovery ahead of him. She still wasn't sure if he would survive, the injuries would have killed an average man a long time ago, and that frightened her to her very core. No one was indestructible, and it took Steve almost dying for her to realize that. "No one is invincible." Natasha replied after a long moment of tense silence.

Tony had slid to the floor beside Natasha and assumed the position she had been in not long ago, his head buried in his hands, his back against the wall. "Everyone thought Steve was. Even you, Natasha." Tony said, his words slightly muffled by his hands. Natasha looked at him for a long time. Any witty comments seemed to slip her mind, any sarcastic responses seemed inappropriate, so she looked at him in silence. She shook her head at first, opening her mouth to respond, but she closed it again and gulped nervously. She wished she still thought he was invincible, that none of this had happened. Even if he wasn't invincible, as long as she believed it, it seem real, at least to her it did.

"I know. But he's not, and we need to protect him. We can't let mister anonymous get to him. Okay?" Natasha replied eventually. In front of them, Steve moaned loudly and his face contorted in agony. Natasha was first up as Coulson stood in a shocked induced silence, staring at the person he has looked up to since he was a kid suffer in agony. Tony was slow getting up, his injuries starting to ache and weaken his already weakened body. Natasha ran to Steve's side, grabbing his flailing left hand in hers and holding it tightly. Tears slid from Steve's closed eyes and down his temples, mixing with the sweat that bathed his pale and broken and damaged body. "It's okay, Steve. You're safe." Natasha lied through her teeth, but Steve didn't need to know about the letter, not yet, not when he was so vulnerable.

Steve still wasn't conscious yet, but he was close to consciousness which meant Natasha needed to prepare herself for mother few hours of trying to calm him down, trying to get his mind off the pain. At least Tony was there this time, and Tony seemed to calm Steve down more than anyone else could. Natasha wasn't sure why that was, but she had a feeling it was because Steve and Tony had been through something that had bonded them in a way that couldn't be replicated. A bond of trust and understanding and safety. A bond so strong, nothing could break it. But, Tony was looking pale and fatigued himself, and Natasha knew he would need to rest, too. So, she would have to be left alone with Steve again, and she would have to try keep herself calm even when his screams and whimpers became almost too much to bear.

"I... I, ah, I need to go." Coulson said nervously as he fiddled with the collar of his white button up shirt. "Fury wants a meeting. In ten minutes." He was about to leave when another desperate cry from the bed stopped him dead in his tracks. He turned on his heels and locked gazes with Natasha before looking at the awakening super soldier on the bed. In the split second of eye contact, Natasha saw such worry, such panic, and, had he kept the eye contact only a moment longer, she would have been sure that those were in fact unshed tears in his eyes.

"Take Tony back to his room." Natasha said, her gaze wandering to Tony who was hunched over, his right arm wrapped protectively around his chest. He looked up at Natasha, his eyes burrowed in confusion and refusal as he shook his head. Coulson took a step forward, carefully avoiding the bed that Steve lay on. Natasha's free hand gently ran up and down Steve's neck as his breathing became so ragged it turned into pained gasps and wheezes.

"I'm fine. I'm staying with Steve." Tony refused, trying to straighten up but ending up only grunting in pain and hunching down further. Slowly, he lifted his head up and glanced at Natasha then at Coulson, who was waiting patiently for Tony to join him. "Okay, but call me if anything happens, or if Steve needs me." Tony eventually gave in, and Natasha was glad. Steve was already barely hanging onto life, suffering and struggling, and Thor was lying in a hospital bed, sleeping but not unconscious. Tony needed to get back to his room, he needed to get better so Natasha could have someone at her side, someone who sympathized with Steve but treated her no differently.

Since they had saved Steve and Tony, everyone had been acting different around her. They had been watching what they said, they had been treating her like a little, wounded puppy, but worst of all were the looks of sympathy and pity hey gave her. She realized that this whole incident had exposed her in a way she never thought she would be exposed, made her seem vulnerable and emotional... Un-Black Widow like. And she hated that she had allowed her emotions to get in the way of her training, she hated that she had made herself vulnerable. But, most of all, she hated that she had feelings that were strong enough to cloud her logic, feelings that even she hasn't been brave enough to acknowledge yet. Feelings for Steve, her captain, her teammate, her friend.

Tony grabbed her hand and she turned to face him. His hazel eyes stared at her, looking into her green eyes with such intensity that Natasha had to fight the urge to break eye contact. "Natasha, call me, I'm serious." He said and Natasha nodded. "Okay." She whispered quietly, her gaze following Tony as he walked alongside Coulson. Once they were out the door, Coulson stuck his head around the corner. He too had that look of sympathy and pity, and Natasha wanted to snap his neck, tell him that she wasn't a little girl, that she was okay... Even if she wasn't.

"Tony's room in ten." Coulson said before ducking out the door and closing it lightly. Natasha watched Steve shiver and sweat and moan on the bed, his back arching and his muscles tensing as waves of agony wreaked havoc on his battered body. Dots of blood stained the bandages and Natasha found herself wondering how much blood Steve could afford to lose before his body gave out, before it became too much for even the serum to bear. Soon, pained blue eyes met hers and she forced a smile as she ran her hand across his clammy forehead.

"Hey, Super Soldier." Natasha whispered, her gaze locking with his as his brow furrowed in confusion. There was a moment of silence when a glint of recognition shone in Steve's blue eyes, a moment of relief as his grip on her hand loosened ever so slightly. But, that moment was short lived. Almost immediately, Steve's face contorted in agony and he ground out a hoarse groan as his grip on Natasha's hand tightened to such an extent that she couldn't hold in the wince any longer. "Steve, look at me, look at me. I know it hurts but you have to get through this, do you understand?" Natasha practically begged, her hand frantically wiping the tears from Steve's temples.

Steve didn't reply, he was too far gone in the pain to hear her and Natasha knew it, but she kept trying. "Steve, please, look at me." She chanted as her voice wavered in panic as Steve screamed raggedly, his grip on her hand being released immediately as his hand lowered to the bed and curled around the steel rails. He curled in on himself, his left hand crushing the metal as he cried out in agony. He was trembling with such ferocity that the bed beneath him shook slightly. Natasha stood awkwardly for a moment, watching him nervously. What could she do? How could she help him?

She remembered finding Steve and Tony on the bed, Tony cradling Steve's trembling form to his body and rocking him back and forth. The closeness and warmth of someone else seemed to comfort Steve, and Natasha couldn't think of any other way to soothe his suffering. So, she climbed onto the bed, forcefully pulling him close to her, carefully avoiding his shattered chest and damaged shoulder. He gasped at the movement and looked at her with bloodshot, teary eyes, and Natasha allowed a single tear to slip down her cheek. "I'm here, Steve. You don't have to be strong, I'm here." Natasha whispered in his ear and he nodded slowly, his eyelids slipping shut as his hand wrapped in her torn suit.

She replicated the position she had found Tony and Steve in earlier, gently rocking Steve back and forth, whispering sweet nothings in his ear as her hands gently traced patterns at the base of his neck. Steve thrashed a bit at first, accidentally kicking the blanket off the bed. Natasha gulped as she stared at the cast along his left leg, choked on a sob as she saw the black bruises and angry red welts branching out from beneath the bandages that covered most of his body, looked away when she spotted the blood staining the pale blue sheets of the bed, staining his boxer shorts.

Hate had once been a strong word, one she reserved for only the worst of the worst, but now, watching Steve thrash and writhe on her lap, it didn't seem nearly strong enough. She more than hated the man who had done that to Steve, she wanted him to suffer. Suffer and writhe and thrash and bleed and cry like he had made Steve do.

Eventually, Steve stopped struggling on the bed and his form went limp in Natasha's arms. She thought he was unconscious, until he spoke. His voice was raspy and weak and breathless, but hearing him speak, hearing him form a coherent sentence was more than Natasha could ever ask for. "Nat... It hurts so bad." Steve said, and Natasha nodded as she placed one hand on his uninjured shoulder and the other hand in his hair. He was trembling and whimpering, like a little child, and Natasha felt her heart shatter into thousands of tiny, unfixable pieces.

"I know. But pain passes, Steve. You will get through this." Natasha said, trying to convince herself more than Steve. When he didn't reply, Natasha added, "And that's an order." The words of the letter pounded at her skull again, refusing to stop, refusing to leave her mind.

You think you've won, you haven't. You think it's over, it isn't. You think your captain is safe, he isn't. Not now, not ever. It's not over until Rogers is in his grave, and that, is a promise.

* * *

"Steve isn't safe and you know it, Fury. He isn't safe in a hospital and it doesn't matter how many snipers you put on the fucking roofs, or how many guards you put outside his room, he isn't safe here and you damn well know it." Tony snapped. He was sitting in his hospital bed, surrounded by Hill, Coulson, Fury, Clint and Natasha. Bruce was with Thor, watching over him, protecting him, keeping him safe. He didn't want to be at the meeting, he didn't want to risk greeting angry, and even the mention of Steve's name angered him. He didnt understand why something so terrible had happened to someone so selfless. So, he stayed away from the meeting, stayed away from Steve, and stayed with Thor.

Natasha was trembling. She was scared and tired and sore and worried and it was all wreaking havoc on her weakened body. Just when she thought Steve was relatively safe, she was hit with the sudden realization that Steve wouldn't be safe until they caught the man, until the man was dead or locked in a prison somewhere isolated and far away from any human contact. Everything around Natasha was in shambles and she was struggling to cope with it. Things in her life that she thought were stable, things that she thought were a constant certainty, had been shattered and ripped out from underneath her, and she just didn't know how to adjust.

"I am aware of that, Stark, which is why we need to take extra precautions. I assure you, we will not allow Rogers or Thor to stay somewhere unsafe." Fury replied, his voice calm and controlling, but Natasha could detect the slightest hint of worry and uncertainty in his voice. Steve was hanging onto life by a thread and Thor was a few rooms down, still unconscious. Extra guards had been stationed outside both of their rooms and inside, and snipers had been stationed on the roofs, awaiting the order to shoot if anything went wrong. But Steve and Thor still weren't safe.

"So then why are they still here? Why are they still in this hospital, then? They should be in Stark Tower or in S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. The longer they're in here, the longer the man has the opportunity to kill them." Tony shouted, his hands curling into fists at his sides as he took calming breaths. Natasha had seen Tony angry before, but she had never seen him like that, with his face red and his muscles tense and his eyes narrowed. No one was acting the same, no one was okay, not even Fury, no matter how calm he seemed on the outside.

"I agree with Stark. We need to get them out, now." Natasha said, her voice shakier than she would have liked as she pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Everyone's attention focused on her and she stood straighter and took a step closer as she cleared her throat. "Steve is in bad shape, and if anything else was to happen to him, he wouldn't make it." Tears filled her eyes as she thought of a world without Steve, a world without her captain. "We need to take him somewhere that's restricted access, somewhere less public, at least until the idiot that threatened us is behind bars."

"How do you propose we do that? How are we supposed to transport Thor and Steve privately? How are we supposed to do this under the radar?" Fury asked, his tone inquisitive and serious rather than sarcastic and bitter. Natasha looked at him for a long time, searching for an answer. They needed to get Steve and Thor out without alerting the public or making the public aware of their whereabouts. They needed to do it privately, but that was hard when the streets outside were practically swarming with citizens.

"We will find a way." Natasha answered. Someway, somehow, they would get Steve and Thor to safety, no matter how hard it would be. Outside Tony's room, nurses and doctors were running around, and the activity seemed busier than usual. Natasha watched them nervously, hoping they weren't running around because something was wrong with Thor or Steve, then she remembered that Thor and Steve had guards surrounding them and if anything went wrong, Natasha or Clint or Fury would be radioed. So, she took a deep breath and relaxed, meeting Fury's gaze again. She was being paranoid.

"I'll work on clearing the streets. I'll say it's for construction or something. I need an hour, then we can get Steve and Thor out of here." Hill said, and she nodded confidently, her eyes meeting Natasha's and communicating support and trust. Natasha knew Hill would do everything in her power to get Steve and Tony out of there unnoticed, and that calmed her, even if only slightly. Hill walked out the room silently, looking left and right as she frowned in confusion at the sudden flurry of activity before pushing her way past a few family members talking to a doctor in the middle of the hallway.

Natasha blocked out the noise that emanated from the hallway as she watched Fury. He was now pacing back and forth, staring at the floor and occasionally nodding or shaking his head. A hand wound around Natasha's arm and she looked to her right and found Clint smiling down a her, his eyes soft and full of pity. God, she hated the pity. Did she look that bad? Was she that transparent all of a sudden? But, the contact of someone she was so close to was comforting and she leaned into his touch, taking a deep breath when his arm snaked around her slumped shoulders.

"We will get him Nat, we will make him suffer." Clint whispered in her ear, his hot breath fanning over her neck. It sent shivers down her spine. She was cold, so cold, and even Clint's touch couldn't warm her. But, his words were exactly what she needed to hear. Knowing that she wasn't the only one who so desperately needed revenge made her feel somewhat normal in the strange situation.

"I hope so." She whispered back.

Suddenly, a doctor ran into the room. His face was flushed and he was sweating. "There's been a breach in room 534." He announced breathlessly and Natasha's heart sunk. Room 543 was Steve's room. She pulled away from Clint and followed the distressed doctor through the hallway and up the stairs. She could barely hear the sound of footsteps following her, but didn't look back. Her heart was racing, her hands were sweaty, and her vision was blurring at the edges. Steve was in danger and she needed to get to him fast. Somehow, the leader had managed to get to him, break through security and reach Steve, and if Natasha didn't hurry, Steve wouldn't be alive for much longer.

"What about room 316?" Natasha asked, thinking about Thor, he needed to be okay. He was in that hospital room because of her and if he didn't make it out alive, she would never get over it.

"Still secure." Someone behind her replied, and Natasha looked over her shoulder and found Clint following her, his right hand on the comm in his ear. Natasha sighed in relief, but she didn't stop running. Her legs ached, her chest was tight and sweat was pouring into her eyes, but she didn't care. She needed to get to Steve.

Once they reached ICU, Natasha pushed past the doctor and sprinted to the end of the hallway where Steve's room was. Doctors and nurses and patients filled the hallway, screams and shouts of panic filling the stale air. She knocked people over and jumped over beds being wheeled in the hallway, desperate to get to Steve. At the end of the hallway, blood was pooling on the floor beneath the bodies of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and security guards and policemen. They all lay on the floor, bullet wounds between their eyes oozing blood. "How did this happen? How did you let this happen?" Natasha yelled to no one in particular. She didn't understand how eight people could be killed in the middle of a hospital and no one had thought to call her until now.

Her body slammed into the door as she pushed on the handle, but the door didn't budge. She kicked at the door and pulled and pushed it, crying out for someone to help. It was locked. "We have more agents coming up." Clint said as he joined Natasha in her struggle to break open the door, but something was behind it, keeping it closed, preventing them from breaking it down. A ragged cry was heard from behind the door and Natasha knew it was Steve's. What was being done to him?

"Steve! I'm coming! I'm coming! Hold on. Okay? Hold on." Natasha yelled, tears falling down her cheeks. She could hear voices behind the door but couldn't distinguish the muffled words. "I'm coming!" Natasha repeated, bruising herself as she threw herself against the door. She couldn't let Steve die. They had gone so far, gotten him out, gotten him help, and she couldn't let that all be for nothing. And, she was so close to catching the suspect, so close to apprehending him, so close to making him suffer. He was in her reach and she couldn't let him get away. Not this time.

"Give up, Romanoff. It's over." An unknown voice called from behind the door. Natasha struggled harder, relieved when she saw guards running down the hallway, holding their guns at the ready. But, she kept pushing the door. "Give up." The voice repeated. Steve was about to die, and Natasha was trying to help him, but she couldn't get to him.

So close, yet so far.


End file.
